Good with the Bad
Monday marked my first occasion to confront the unfathomable, unmoveable, unapologetic nincompoopism of this city. Can't say I wasn't warned. Stories of non-collection of garbage, endless round robins trying to secure a permit, lasso an inspector, recover mortgage refunds, were provided in a spirit of full disclosure when I began my search for a home in New Orleans. I was undeterred. Some underlying confidence in the power of persuasion, the inevitability of improvement in the face of glitches, and maybe a touch of optimism brushed away the nagging doubt that I could thrive under the boot of perpetual ignorance-in-office.
Well the jury's out on the definition of "thrive". I've picked others' trash off the sidewalks and streets, bagged my doggie poop while stepping over piles left by passers-by, detoured around restaurant waste water pouring over the sidewalk and I've managed to find destinations without street signs or directional arrows (even before Katrina). Yesterday, however, the disassociation between common sense and public service reality landed pretty much in my face.
Over a month ago, by telephone, I arranged to purchase a bridge toll pass for a favorite relative. New batch was expected on January 16. The hitch was the absence of a current credit card other than Xpress. O.K. No problem. Phone voice said: call back with the credit card number: Presto!!! Bridge Pass in the mail. Sounds perfect. Although my new Visa came through the mail, no voice came through the line when dialing toll pass office. Well, that's not exactly true. A voice answered. A voice directed me to punch '2' to reach a toll pass person. The voice ended at that point. In fact, the call ended. A busy signal would keep me company for as long as I continued to hold the line. This happened trillions of times over several days. No call was ever put in line for the 'next available person.' That would have been pretty funny, anyway. When I mentioned the phone problem at the toll pass office window, the person on the other side of the counter told me it was unlikely I would ever get through on the telephone, because the city of New Orleans has only one individual manning the "phones" at the office that regulates bridge tolls, etc., for a few hundred thousand people who may use that bridge every day of every year.
Anyway, I didn't do this gig on the telephone. Had I reached a toll pass person on the telephone, I would have recited the driver's license number, car plate number, name of the favorite relative, and a Visa number. The result of that couple of minutes would have been a toll pass in the mail and an underpaid person in the bridge office wishing me a great day.
The first stab at face contact in the bridge pass office took place at 2:00 or so one day last week. I saw people of every nationality, age, weight, income, patience level, hygiene habit...well you get the picture. In fact, I saw between 40-60 of them, and they were all in line in front of me for a few absurd minutes while I contemplated spending the rest of the sunny day guessing which one of these poor hostages would commit 'toll pass homicide.' While most people would have figured this out, there is bound to be one poor fool who, after 2.5 hours in line, is told at the window that he needs to have his license plate number in order to get a golden fleece, I mean, toll tag. As he slowly turns to gaze out the door at his car across the street in the overflow parking lot, then at the 400 people still in line behind him, soon to be in line in front of him, it isn't hard to picture awful violence happening right there at the toll pass window. Get this: Noplace on the walls, ceiling, floor in the entire hall, office, windows is there a statement of what you need to have while in line to obtain a toll pass.
Second round began yesterday at 7:15 a.m. I lurked in my car, reading the newspaper, while 2, then 5, then 10 people waited in other cars, until 7:45 when someone approached the door, followed by a rush of everyone else. 10 minutes later, I was face-to-face with the keeper of the pass. "I need to add some money to my account, and" "got your credit card?" "...and get another pass on the same credit card." "you want two cards?" "Well, one is for me, but the other one is for another car, and" "both have to be on your account." "why is that?" "you can have four cards, but they have to be on your account." "When I called on the telephone..." "Yeah, but in person, it has to be on your account." "If I called on the telephone..." "See, that's different. Here you have to put it on your account." "If I called on the telephone, I could just give you a license number and a driver's license and any credit card." "well, they can do that on the phone, but in person it has to be the same account." "Well, o.k., I want to put some money on my card and some money on the second card" "They both have to be on the same account." "Yes, well, I understand that, ok, so I'll put, well, I guess $40..." "It's $10 for the tag, and $20 on the account." "Fine. If I put $40, then each tag can go through for $20 " "You can only put $20 on the account, and when it gets to $10 it automatically puts $20 on the credit card." Me: "So, in effect, each card only has $5." "they both use the same account." "I GOT IT." (didnt say this). Oh, even after only 45 seconds in line, I was homicidal!!
If you can believe this: 'in person' you must (l) put every card in your name, on your car, on your license, on your credit card. (2) while all the cards are drawing from the same account, you may only put $20 into the account. Oh, man.
At least she didn't say 'have a great day.'
Later that evening, I sat with Cal on the levee and watched an otter diving along the shore. So worth it.
Well the jury's out on the definition of "thrive". I've picked others' trash off the sidewalks and streets, bagged my doggie poop while stepping over piles left by passers-by, detoured around restaurant waste water pouring over the sidewalk and I've managed to find destinations without street signs or directional arrows (even before Katrina). Yesterday, however, the disassociation between common sense and public service reality landed pretty much in my face.
Over a month ago, by telephone, I arranged to purchase a bridge toll pass for a favorite relative. New batch was expected on January 16. The hitch was the absence of a current credit card other than Xpress. O.K. No problem. Phone voice said: call back with the credit card number: Presto!!! Bridge Pass in the mail. Sounds perfect. Although my new Visa came through the mail, no voice came through the line when dialing toll pass office. Well, that's not exactly true. A voice answered. A voice directed me to punch '2' to reach a toll pass person. The voice ended at that point. In fact, the call ended. A busy signal would keep me company for as long as I continued to hold the line. This happened trillions of times over several days. No call was ever put in line for the 'next available person.' That would have been pretty funny, anyway. When I mentioned the phone problem at the toll pass office window, the person on the other side of the counter told me it was unlikely I would ever get through on the telephone, because the city of New Orleans has only one individual manning the "phones" at the office that regulates bridge tolls, etc., for a few hundred thousand people who may use that bridge every day of every year.
Anyway, I didn't do this gig on the telephone. Had I reached a toll pass person on the telephone, I would have recited the driver's license number, car plate number, name of the favorite relative, and a Visa number. The result of that couple of minutes would have been a toll pass in the mail and an underpaid person in the bridge office wishing me a great day.
The first stab at face contact in the bridge pass office took place at 2:00 or so one day last week. I saw people of every nationality, age, weight, income, patience level, hygiene habit...well you get the picture. In fact, I saw between 40-60 of them, and they were all in line in front of me for a few absurd minutes while I contemplated spending the rest of the sunny day guessing which one of these poor hostages would commit 'toll pass homicide.' While most people would have figured this out, there is bound to be one poor fool who, after 2.5 hours in line, is told at the window that he needs to have his license plate number in order to get a golden fleece, I mean, toll tag. As he slowly turns to gaze out the door at his car across the street in the overflow parking lot, then at the 400 people still in line behind him, soon to be in line in front of him, it isn't hard to picture awful violence happening right there at the toll pass window. Get this: Noplace on the walls, ceiling, floor in the entire hall, office, windows is there a statement of what you need to have while in line to obtain a toll pass.
Second round began yesterday at 7:15 a.m. I lurked in my car, reading the newspaper, while 2, then 5, then 10 people waited in other cars, until 7:45 when someone approached the door, followed by a rush of everyone else. 10 minutes later, I was face-to-face with the keeper of the pass. "I need to add some money to my account, and" "got your credit card?" "...and get another pass on the same credit card." "you want two cards?" "Well, one is for me, but the other one is for another car, and" "both have to be on your account." "why is that?" "you can have four cards, but they have to be on your account." "When I called on the telephone..." "Yeah, but in person, it has to be on your account." "If I called on the telephone..." "See, that's different. Here you have to put it on your account." "If I called on the telephone, I could just give you a license number and a driver's license and any credit card." "well, they can do that on the phone, but in person it has to be the same account." "Well, o.k., I want to put some money on my card and some money on the second card" "They both have to be on the same account." "Yes, well, I understand that, ok, so I'll put, well, I guess $40..." "It's $10 for the tag, and $20 on the account." "Fine. If I put $40, then each tag can go through for $20 " "You can only put $20 on the account, and when it gets to $10 it automatically puts $20 on the credit card." Me: "So, in effect, each card only has $5." "they both use the same account." "I GOT IT." (didnt say this). Oh, even after only 45 seconds in line, I was homicidal!!
If you can believe this: 'in person' you must (l) put every card in your name, on your car, on your license, on your credit card. (2) while all the cards are drawing from the same account, you may only put $20 into the account. Oh, man.
At least she didn't say 'have a great day.'
Later that evening, I sat with Cal on the levee and watched an otter diving along the shore. So worth it.
posted by Pelican Stories at 5:14 PM
2 Comments:
An otter? Really?
A sense of humor is the best and only method for avoiding being hauled away for blowing up every municipal building in this city. Glad you seem to have a healthy supply on board.
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