It’s kind of a futile exercise, but every now and then I can’t control myself and I try to remind them that the sign at their office doors indicates in one fashion or another that they’re there to help and not to hinder.
Signs that read something like Service Ontario.
Which is where I had to go yesterday. Service Ontario ostensibly provides assistance with things like drivers licenses and health cards and a series of other Ontario related regulatory requirements. Requirements designed to make you wait in line and pay for shit that you thought you had already paid for, or that you shouldn’t have to pay for. In this case I needed a new drivers licence and a new heath card, plus I had to mail a travel grant to some other government agency, and rumor had it that could be done in this same office.
I need to add that for the last year I’ve been dealing on a daily basis with the heath care system. Multiple bureaucracies and a myriad of departments within those bureaucracies, plus all of the associated pharmacies and clinics and the people who answer the phones at labs and clinics. I have reserved my patience and tamed my demeanor when dealing with these people. The restraint is self serving. If driver’s license guy fucks me over it’s an inconvenience. If some bitchy for some reason medical phone answerer fucks me over, then it’s a genuine problem.
So I think that my well of patience is dedicated to heath care and there wasn’t much left in reserve for Service Ontario.
So it went something like this.
I walked in and there was a new kiosk I’ve never seen before. But I was the only person there and I assumed I could avoid the little screen. Nope.
I approached one of the clerks. Said clerk told me I had to go push the buttons on the kiosk.
First eye tic.
But I went and had two pieces of paper printed out that indicated I was there for two reasons, and only one of each of those reasons. I went back to the counter with the little papers. Clerk nodded toward the row of empty chairs and I felt the beginnings of second eye tic.
But I went and sat down. About 30 seconds later a speaker came on and he called my number.
Second eye tic.
I think that at this exact moment I was already considering what would qualify as behaviour for being asked to leave the building because of an attitude issue. I think they call it zero tolerance for abusive behaviour. However I think the clerk that thinks they’re being abused gets to decide on what makes the grade as far as abusive goes, so your average client is at a bit of a disadvantage in understanding the rules.
But I was pretty sure I couldn’t walk up and suggest he was a moronic fuck.
Instead I handed him my tickets. He just pushed them back at me and didn’t even look at them. I assume because I had already told him what I wanted before he made me go through the kiosk chair drill.
Third eye tic.
I crumpled up the little papers, and I think kind of aggressively deposited them in the waste basket beside me. Then I handed him my old health card and my driver’s license. I asked him if the clothing I was wearing was going to be a problem for my new I.D photo. He looked annoyed that I’d asked the question and I noticed the annoyance. So, I decided to tell him that if you go for a passport photo they are particular about what you’re wearing. No logo’s, no advertisements. That kind of thing. He appeared to not give much of a fuck about my passport story. Then he told me to go stand in front of the backdrop for the pic, and that part of the process actually went well.
Then he inputted and stamped whatever he had to do and handed me back my health card with a paper that tells any medical person in Ontario that I’ve got a new health card coming in the mail at some point. I assume the extra piece of paper is necessary because the reissue takes some time. Which really isn’t a surprise considering that the process to process has to navigate their own process. I’m guessing a few more people just like him have to stamp and input.
That shit takes time before the new cards even hit the mail, and then it’s a Monday to Friday delivery barring inclement weather, a postal truck crash or a strike.
So, I had the health card and was waiting for my drivers license. I could see it in front of him and so I waited a minute and then asked him to give it to me. Instead he pushed the credit card terminal at me and told me I owed them ninety dollars.
Why is it ninety dollars I asked?
Because it’s for five years he replied.
Why is it for five years I asked?
Because that’s the default he replied.
At that point I was thinking I should ask if he had a dictionary. But instead I asked him if I was understanding him correctly. Default to me indicates that there are options. Because I didn’t ask for one year or two years specifically, the system, and by that I mean the clerk defaulted my non-ask and extended the license for five years.
No he said, the five year option is the only option. Oh I said then it’s a requirement. What if I only have a year to live or I’m going to leave the Province in a year? I was then informed I would have to come back for a refund. I told him I didn’t see a refund option on the little kiosk and maybe they should add that line before someone comes in and gets the wrong ticket printed out.
No reaction.
So I paid the ninety dollars, and only then did he slide my license back to me. I couldn’t help myself and asked him why he held the licence until my payment was verified? Did he think I was going to run out without paying? I added that he was currently in possession of the paperwork necessary for my new licence to be mailed to me. If I were to bolt and not pay, all he needed to do was cancel or not process the new application?
He just looked at me. I could tell the wheels were spinning but nothing resembling words came out of his mouth.
At this juncture I think I was being a dick to service guy, but thankfully I only had one more order of business. So I asked him if travel grants could actually be mailed from this office. He nodded toward a silver box a few feet away and told me to put it there. I asked if it needed to be in an envelope with maybe an address and name attached? He didn’t know and sort of jerked his head toward the silver box. Again in annoyance.
Then I made a civil service error. I asked him if he could photocopy the two pages of the grant application. He looked shocked that I was asking. No. he replied it’s against office policy. You have to go somewhere else to get it copied.
Not sure exactly why but eye tic four.
So I asked him for a copy of the policy. I pointed out I had just given the Ontario government ninety dollars. There were three civil servants in the office, I was the only one there, and I could see the photocopier four feet away from them. He repeated that it was against policy and that I would have to look for that policy on line. I told him I didn’t want to look for the policy on line. I added that if it’s an official policy then it should be posted or at the very least available. He then told me that he would have to search for it and he probably couldn’t give it to me even if he could find it.
I get that they can’t be photocopying stuff for people by the way. There’s always a line up in that office and I’m guessing that it’s a struggle to get through all the hoops with all of the missing a piece of paper people. But I was in a mood. So I told him I would wait, and if and when he located the policy that if there was only one then maybe he could make me a photocopy.
Then I waited.
He outwaited me.
He didn’t even get off his bar stool or whatever the chair thing is called he was perched on. So, I had no choice except to walk about a block to an office supplier and seller of pens and paper, to get my damned application copied.
Fortunately I didn’t have to deal with service man again, because this last task didn’t require a piece of paper from the little terminal. And because the silver box he was talking about was far enough away to discourage anymore interactions.
And oh yeah. You do need an envelope and a return address and name.