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Just got off the phone today, after trying to book a driving test for my son.
My question was a fairly tentative one, asking how I can book a time.
“I’ll need the number from your Driver’s Exam Receipt,” was the prompt answer.
Let’s backtrack here. There are some things that you only do once or twice in your life. Taking a driver’s test is one of those.
So, what is the likelihood that anyone calling to book a driving test already knows the procedure? Not high.
The person answering the phone would have been better off starting at the beginning, explaining that people need to prepay for a driver’s test at any licensing office, then call in with the receipt number to book their test.
That wasn’t so difficult.
So why do so few companies and government agencies train their staff to assume people are ignorant of their arcane regulations and procedures?
Lally:
For the first five cars I owned, I memorized the license plate. For some reason, the latest car’s plate eludes my brain cells. I can’t remember it to save my life.
You wouldn’t believe the weird looks I get when asked to provide the plate number by a clerk, and I have to run out to the parking lot to check!
1416 days ago
[...] I wrote the other day about talking on the phone with the local agency that handles driving tests. [...]
Wow. Just Wow.
Here’s one only slightly related but kinda … umm … funny if in better circumstances.
Middle of the night, I am in an emergency room where my mother has just arrived by ambulance. The doctor is trying to calculate the amount of medication to administer and points across the room at me and shouts, “You, son.” [Important to note that I am probably ten years older than the guy who just called me 'son,' but I got it.]
“Yes?”
“How much does your mother weigh?”
“I don’t know.”
He stops completely. He’s incredulous.
“You DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH YOUR MOTHER WEIGHS?!”
He’s the one agitated. This is not a comfort.
“No. Do you?” I ask.
The nurses laugh. At him.
I feel slightly better.