The Sassistas! would like to acknowledge and thank Jerseysista for dishing today's sass, which -- as you will discover -- entailed much torture and heartache to gather.
Think of Oliver Twist: "Please sir, I want some more porridge." Although it is not Dickensian London but rather Maryland in October 2009, I nonetheless march off, with no less innocence than Oliver, to seek benevolence from the Maryland Motor Vehicle Administration. I hope to get a new car registration, even though I only have two months left on my car lease. This is because my insurance company knows I have moved to Maryland and won’t reissue my policy until I re-register. So, once at the MVA, I wait in line 45 minutes with the likes of people Fagin himself would have enjoyed, and when I am finally admitted I encounter a world of bureaucracy, rules and procedures that must have been devised by Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi.
A clerk gives us each a number and herds us like cattle into the waiting area. Eventually, a Soup Nazi summons me to counter #5 where she informs me that my insurance card is insufficient proof of insurance, and that I will have to go home and get my insurance policy. Not to fear, though, the SN tells me I can skip to the front of the line when I return (if I keep my hands off the counter and state my soup order clearly, with no embellishments, no extraneous comments, no questions, and no compliments).
Twenty-five minutes later, back at counter #5, I am given a form to complete and told to wait for my number to come up in the queue. Eventually, a mechanical voice summons me to counter #3 where another SN gives me yet another form and sends me back to my seat to complete it. (Why didn't they just give me this form at the first counter?) At this point I am beginning to suspect I am working my way through the seven rings of Hell and will never escape.
I complete the form and return it to counter #3 where it enables the SN to give me yet ANOTHER form, but she tells me I will not need to return it until MVA notifies me that it has received the title from my leasing company. "WHAT!?" Plus I have to get the car inspected and bring the inspection certificate when I come back. “I have to come back again? On another day!?”
So, now it's now November. My car has two new tires and clean bill of health, and I am $400 poorer. Back at the Soup Nazi's Kitchen, I stand in line. Get number. Wait. Go to counter #11. But . . . there's a problem.
"We need to see a copy of your lease."
"Why? You have the title showing the leasing company as the owner. You have my current registration in my name. What more do you need?"
"We need to see the contract to determine what taxes you have already paid so we can credit you. You don't want to pay the full 6% for the entire lease, do you?"
I go home, search through three years of records, find the lease and return to Hell's Kitchen.
I wait at counter #11 until the Soup Nazi arrives but NOT, it turns out, to handle my lease contract. The SN puts me in the queue and tells me to take a seat until my name is called. When I hear it, I cautiously approach counter #13.
"Here is my form, sir. May I please have more porridge, er, I mean my registration?"
"This form is not properly completed. Please go back to your seat and correct it."
"Can't I do it here? I'll be quick. I promise."
"Nein!"
I go back to my seat and then return with my PROPERLY completed form to counter #13 where I am PROPERLY told to go to counter #11, which as you will recall, is the queuer-upper counter. I go to counter #11 and get sqrueued.
Back in my seat again I am dreaming of tasty porridge when my number comes up at counter #14.
There, I learn that NJ and PA, having previously taken taxes on my lease, "complicates matters." The SN really WANTS to credit me for the $1,027 paid to NJ but cannot do so without knowing the NJ tax rate and the base amount upon which the tax was calculated.
"You need to call NJ and get a receipt for your taxes."
"I just GAVE you a receipt. It shows the lump sum I paid to NJ."
"We need to know how they calculated it."
Back at my seat, I call GMAC, then NJ (twice) and then GMAC who finally agrees to fax a tax statement to MVA but it will take 24–48 hours.
I go home to wait. On the way out, I see George, Elaine, Jerry and Kramer in line. They advise me to just get a new car. I do. It's color? Chili soup red.Have you ever been abused by your own Soup Nazi or Nazis? Please share your own sad tales of tedium and torture.
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