A few weeks ago, I got a letter from the Texas Department of Public Safety, explaining to me that I was not eligible to renew my Texas Driver License online. Apparently, twelve years is the limit, and after that, folks have to show up in person to update their photo, signature, and fingerprints. The letter also explained that, to “enhance security, reduce the risk of identity theft or fraud, and protect the integrity of the issuance process,” I would need to verify my “social security number, identity, citizenship, and residency,” by bringing the appropriate documents with me.

The letter said: “In addition to a DL or ID, you may be required to provide other documents to verify your identiy, SSN, citizenship, and residency.

The following are some example documents you could bring as proof.

1. For identity, your unexpired passport or birth certificate is recommended.
2. For SSN, your social security card is preferred but a DD-214 or college/university transcript is acceptable.
3. For residency, your Texas vehicle registration or vehicle title are examples of acceptable documents.

So, I started gathering documents. First, I knew exactly where my Passport was. I went to the drawer and, Ta-Dah! There it was. All safe and secure…and expired. I dug out my birth certificate. My social security card wasn’t in the first place that I looked, but it was in the second. And, I couldn’t find the vehicle registration or title, but I took my vehicle insurance card, which has my name, address, and the VIN numbers of the cars. And, I also took my voter registration card.

I clipped everything together (well, not the expired Passport), with my old Driver License (DL) on the top. I put them in a big envelope, to be sure I didn’t lose one of them on the way. I put them in my purse, along with a book to read while I waited. And went off to the Texas Department of Public Safety.

I got there pretty early, 8:30 or so, and the place was already filled. There were maybe 30 people, sitting in rows of chairs, waiting for their turn. It turns out that lots of stuff happens at the DPS. There was a check-in computer at the door with a list of possible reasons I might be there. Look for a Criminal Record, Schedule a Road Test (for getting a DL), Getting Forms, Reporting a Crime, and Renewing a DL. I punched my choice, and a slip of paper came out with a number (3027). And the computer said to go to the “Form Area.”

I had to ask a polite young man where the “Form Area” was, and and he pointed to a circular organizer with forms in it (that was right next to us). There was a very small sign on top that actually did say “Forms.” So, I got my DL form and began to fill it out. While I was working, a voice over the loudspeaker said, “Number 3026,” and gave a counter number. And I thought, “Hmmmm. Possibly I’m taking too long.” And, indeed, a couple of minutes later, they called my number and the space where I should go.

“I’m not quite done,” I said to the young woman there. “Oh, that’s OK,” she said. I pulled my nicely clipped together documents from the envelope, and she took my old DL, and began to punch keys on her computer while I finished up the form. Then, she looked at the form, verified a couple of things, then asked me to look into the eye test box and read line 5. Then I had to put my thumbs on a box which was supposed to capture my thumbprints. I had to try several times, but finally, we got me all printed. Then, she said, “Stand in front of the blue screen.” And she took my photo.

She printed out my temporary DL and handed it to me. And that was that. She didn’t ask for anything else I had brought. I’m sorry I didn’t time it. I don’t think it was ten minutes from the time I walked in the door until I walked out.

I’m assuming that, when she put my information into the computer, it showed that I was a resident of Texas/McLennan County/Waco, that my driving record was clean, and that I did not have a Criminal Record or any Outstanding Warrants against me. So, I guess I’m good for another twelve years. As long as I stay out of trouble.

Back in January, I talked about the microwave oven that needed to be replaced. Here’s how all that played out:

I did research with Consumer Reports to be able to make a good choice, and took that list to a store. They carried the brand that we’d chosen, but didn’t have white, which I wanted, because all the other appliances are white. (And I’m not at all in the market for replacing all the appliances in stainless steel or black, which are the current popular colors. Personally, I think white may always be available. Maybe not, but certainly for the rest of my life.)

So we ordered the style and brand we wanted; in white. “It will be delivered on February 3,” said the salesman. “Three weeks?” “Well, it has to come from the factory,” or something like that.

We returned home, and David went back to using the screwdriver to pry open the old microwave. And I went back to not using the microwave. By February 3rd, I had not heard from the store, and so I went over there, that Saturday morning, and went to the Appliance Department, with my sheaf of papers detailing our purchase.

“I haven’t heard anything about this microwave oven being delivered,” I said. “Hmmm,” said the Appliance Department guy, and punched numbers into his computer.

“Yes,” he said. “Your microwave will be delivered and installed today, between 10:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m.” It was 9:30 a.m.

“So, I should hurry on back home,” I said. He agreed. Back at home, I quickly removed all the canned goods and turntables from the cabinet above the microwave and put them in a couple of bins.

The delivery/installer guys came at 11:00. They carried in the big box and checked the number on the box with the number on my paper. All’s well. They opened up the box, took out the protective styrofoam, and began to pull the oven from the box.

“Stop,” I said. “Stop now and put it back in the box. I asked for white.” The microwave oven was black.

The young man in charge was dismayed. “I checked the number,” he said. “I checked it twice.” He checked it again. The number on my paper and the number on the box matched.

“Your salesman wrote down the wrong number,” he said. “That’s the wrong number on your order form.” He showed me the phone number of the store and said to call them and tell them what happened. Wrong number.

They packed up the oven and left.

I called the store. “It’s the right number,” the Appliance Department guy said. “The letters ‘WW’ after the number mean white. The kid just picked up the wrong box.”

I was skeptical, but the guy said that they would figure out the problem.

And they did. Turns out, the young man did not make a mistake. The manufacturer put the wrong oven in the box. The box said, “WW” (for white), but the oven in the box was “BB.” Black.

Someone from the company called me a couple of days later, explained what happened, and said they would indeed be sending me a nice, white microwave oven. They didn’t exactly say, but I rather assumed that, if it took 3 weeks for the wrong microwave to arrive, it would probably take 3 MORE weeks for the right microwave to arrive.

I was right. On February 21 (a few days’ shy of that three week date), I called the store. I explained that I was checking on a microwave oven’s arrival/delivery/installation date. I gave her the order number and explained what the problem had been. She said she would check, and a few moments later she said, “Yes, I see that the order went out yesterday-February 20.”

And I said, in a voice that could in no way be described as calm, “ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT THE PROBLEM OCCURRED ON FEBRUARY 3 AND THE ORDER HAS JUST GONE OUT YESTERDAY?”

“Let me check and be sure that I’m understanding what I’m seeing,” she said. Pretty quickly, she was back on the line and said, “Your microwave is scheduled to be delivered on Saturday, the 24th. We can’t give you a time yet, because we don’t exactly know how many appliances are being delivered and installed.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I stayed home on Saturday. All day. I never left the house. I didn’t even go outside. I stayed at home. In the house. All day. (You see where this is going, don’t you.) No new microwave oven came. No old microwave oven got carried away.

Sunday afternoon, I left on a planned trip to Dallas to visit a cousin. I came back Monday afternoon. I had some things to do Tuesday. And I checked the incoming phone numbers on the land line phone, and called numbers I didn’t recognize (podiatrist, retina doctor). No phone calls came in from the store. I checked the incoming calls on my cell phone. I had heard all of them come in and answered all of them. Nothing from the store.

Wednesday, I took my papers to the store. I went back to the Appliance Department and re-introduced myself to the guy there. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “Wrong color.”

“Yes,” I said. And I laid out the rest of the story.

“Hmmm,” he said, checking his computer. “Yes, I see right here,” he pointed to his computer. “We show that your oven was scheduled to be delivered on Saturday. But . . . there’s no record that a delivery was made.”
“No delivery was made,” I said. “And, as per your store’s information, I stayed home. All day. No one came.”

I went on. “And now I want to cancel this order and get my money refunded.”

“Can I get you something else,” he said.

“No.”

“Then I’ll take you to the front and we’ll get this taken care of.”

As we walked to the front, he apologized and I said that I was weary of waiting and that I had been almost seven weeks without a microwave. And he said, “Seven weeks without a microwave?!?!?!?”

And when I glared at him, he had the grace to look chagrined.

I did remind him that I knew the original problem had been the manufacturer’s. “But this last problem, that’s in the hands of your company.”

At the desk, while an employee was doing the work of creating the refund, the appliance guy said, “I’m going to send an e-mail to my supervisor.”

“Good idea,” I said.

I took my refund information, walked out to my car, drove to a different store, went in and walked to the Appliance Department. Someone showed up quickly and I said I was looking for a microwave oven, and I showed her the information from my previous search in Consumer Reports. (Not, of course, from the company we first ordered from. Not those guys. I was looking for one of the others we had identified.) The store had it. It was sitting in a box on a shelf. (We did check the indication of color, but I do understand now that we should always check the actual appliance.)

That employee needed to go and get someone else for writing up the purchase and getting the delivery and installation set up.

That was on a Wednesday. That Friday, I got a phone call from the people who do the installations. They said the microwave would be delivered the next Wednesday, between the hours of 11:00 and 12:00.

On Wednesday, the guy arrived at 11:20. He removed the old oven, installed the new one, carried the old one away, and completely cleaned up after himself.

So apparently, it’s not that hard.

I know most folks work hard and try not to make mistakes. I think most employees want to do well for their employers and their customers. I’ve never worked in retail, but I’ve seen salespeople treated poorly, and I try to be kind. But I also think it’s a little unfair to a business not to let them know when customer service is poor. And I want to do business with stores that act as though they value my shopping with them.