The only area of my life that I don't mind being described as beige in is my boring, responsible, nerdy dedication to vehicle-related admin. I log on to pay my fines monthly to make sure that my record remains untarnished even though I don't get many speeding fines. Let me just state that often it's not for lack of trying – you see, I drive a 1.2 Fiat Palio that sounds like an angry mosquito when it manages to haul itself over the 100km per hour threshold on a good day. Needless to say, I'm not in much danger of being caught going 140km p/h in a 120km p/h zone. So you'd think that being met by a surprise roadblock at 9am on a Monday morning wouldn't do much to my just-showered-looking-ultra-fresh-and-sparkly composure, right? Wrong!
Until the powers that be invent a way for us mere mortals to renew our license discs online, once a year I will feel like a fugitive in my own suburb. Yip, I will cower in fear as I approach roadblocks and say a million little 'please, please, please with a cherry on top' prayers as I proceed through. My heart will race and my raisin bran will sit uneasily in the pit of my stomach threatening to make an unwelcome appearance until I have been waved through and I'm safely on the other side – UNfined.
For years I have meant to renew my license timeously, the minute the renewal note has arrived in my postbox I've filled it out carefully, studiously and popped it into the 'to do' section of whatever handbag is my new favourite. I have never actually managed to get it done on time. I am willing to own up and put it down to equal parts of procrastination and laziness (I'll do it tomorrow, today I really must sit on the couch and watch two hours of back-to-back episodes of What not to wear).
I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that this vicious cycle would play out annually until the day I shuffled off this Earth or had a grandchild who was the superhero of admin, and then I saw it – a glowing beacon of hope... as I strolled through Sandton City I was struck by the beauty of a poster that read: You can now renew your license at any Post Office. Quickly and easily! I had a meeting in Fourways in an hour but I thought to myself: "How long could one little renewal take?"
I stopped dead in my tracks and took a sharp right into the Post Office. I was so happy I practically skipped into the three-people-deep queue and didn't get annoyed as five minutes ticked by, I didn't even get annoyed when a further 10 minutes sluggishly passed. By the nineteenth minute of my wait the initial euphoria had passed and I was starting to tap my left foot like a right little madame... Luckily, I didn't have to go into full-on diva mode because it was my turn to be served. Ponytail swinging in celebration I trotted up to the counter:
Me: "I'd like to renew my license disc" [confidently placing my filled out paperwork and bank guaranteed check on the counter with a smile]
Sapo's finest: "I can't do it for you. There's only one person at this branch who is trained to do renewals."
Me: "Okay, well can I see them?"
Sapo's finest: "She's on lunch. She'll only be back at one o' clock." [it was 12:10pm]
Me: [finally I found some words after a brief period of utter speechlessness as it dawned on me...] "So you're saying that I just stood in a queue for 20 minutes for nothing? That there's only one person trained to do it but the Post Office is advertising it as a 'quick and easy' service?"
Sapo's finest: "Yes. Next customer please..."
And that was that. I didn't have the time to wait for 'the chosen one' and the Post Office didn't particularly see to care. The irony? I can just see the look on the face of a Metro cop who has just pulled me over at a roadblock...
Metro: "Why haven't you renewed your disc?"
Me: "Funny story, really... I tried to but there was only one person who could do it and they were on their lunch break...."
Metro: "Funny. Nice try. Now how 'bout you buy me lunch?"
Comments