Do you believe in
miracles? YES!!!
--
Sportscaster Al Michaels, Winter Olympics, 1980
It absolutely took a
miracle for the
US
Olympic hockey team to defeat the then-Soviet Union and then
Finland to take the gold medal during those winter games.
David has to slay Goliath every once in a while.
We so desperately need that demonstration that even the
very improbable is not impossible, and that sometimes, even the
impossible defies the laws of Nature.
I had just such an
experience. You
see, my driver's license was up for renewal.
With entirely justified expectations, I put off dealing
with the New York State
Department of Motor Vehicles as long as I possibly could.
My license was set to expire in less than two weeks, and
I was traveling most of that, so the day of reckoning had come.
I decided that it would be
less time away from the office if I could do my renewal in
Manhattan rather than on Long Island where I live.
I called directory assistance for the DMV number in
Manhattan, and started the quest with a call at about 10:30 AM.
The phone was answered on the first ring.
Good morning, DMV, may I help you?
Wait a minute... who are
you, and what have you done with the real DMV personnel?
Somewhat dumbfounded, I
proceeded, "can you tell me what the hours are in the downtown
office to do a license renewal?"
Oh, no, sir, don't go to the main office for license
renewals.
We have a License Express office on
34th street.
Their hours are 8 AM to 5:30 PM.
"A what?"
A License Express office on 34th Street and 8th
Avenue.
They do only license renewals.
You'll be out in less than 10
minutes.
At last, I found the real
DMV personnel.
Delusional from prolonged dependency on heavy drugs or toxic
levels of civil servants syndrome, no doubt.
Talking total gibberish.
Armed with my collection of
historical DMV-horror show expectations, I left the office at 4:00
PM, took the train to a nearby station, and walked over to 34th and
8th. There in a
store-front was an office, with an attractive License Express
sign in front (not at all obvious that it was even DMV), was a
clean, bright, modern facility that to the unsuspecting actually
looked good. Maybe 4
customers inside. At
least 6 service people inside.
Trust me: this joint could never be mistaken for the DMV.
With an uncontrollable grin on
my face, I checked my watch as I entered through the revolving
doors. 4:29 PM.
Walked right up to a counter, presented my post card renewal
form (which required only one tick mark and a signature), and asked,
"Am I in the right place?"
The chap clearly replied,
"take this to that position, have your photo
ID and eye test, and come back to any cashier."
Thank God.
What a relief!
This was the DMV: I had been told I was on the wrong
line. So I proceeded as
directed, to where one woman was having her picture taken, another
was waiting, then I joined the queue.
The woman waiting ahead of me was checking her hair, putting
on lipstick -- that got me to start combing my hair, adjusting my
tie.... This actually
had a calming effect: I could feel the impact that the DMV has on
otherwise apparently rational people, getting them to spruce up for
their license photo that is bound to come out making you look like a
felon. The two of us
looked at each other and immediately starting laughing.
It was my new image-conscious
friend who then stepped up to have her photo taken.
Before the photo, they scan your signature, which is applied
to your license. A
private security guard (a rent-a-cop, as I call them, not usually
known as customer service types) prompted her, snapped her photo,
but awwww... she had her eyes closed.
No problem, he said, he'd just take another.
Next picture had her prettier than the Mona Lisa.
This was scary.
This guy was nice.
Holy shit!! [As
you can tell, this Fellini-like experience had gotten to me.]
My turn was completed in no time, including the eye test
against which my ophthalmologist should benchmark for speed and
courtesy. Over to the
cashier. Same guy I
started out with takes my forms, my check (not to worry, credit
cards also accepted).
He cuts my temporary license, tells me the permanent license with
photo, electronic signature and encoded mag stripe will show up in
six weeks. Now I swung
over to the other extreme, expecting that any organization that
could do what it just did should deliver the card in six seconds,
not six weeks. OK, it's
a vestige that provides linkage to the time-honored tradition of the
DMV. But I'm still a
happy guy.
I walked out at 4:35 -- 6
minutes. I couldn't
resist the impulse to tell them that I was ecstatic.
"Oh, yeah, 10 minutes or less", they
repeated. These
guys were committed.
Thanks, DMV.
I needed that.
We all need the occasional booster shot of faith that whatever we
commit ourselves to can and will be done.
Dramatic growth in a down economy.
Re-engineered processes led by customer-centered teams.
Market leadership.
The only real limitation is our historical mind-set that it
cannot be done. Sure,
there are lots of other problems that come up, some of them even
mountainous in difficulty.
But they can all be overcome if we want to.
Face it... if the New York
State Department of Motor Vehicles can transform everyone's worst
nightmare into an exemplary service experience, we can do anything.
Quick: point me to the Red Sea.
I want to try something -- I hear it's been done before.