OMG it’s the DMV
It happens every five years. Your driver’s license is about to expiry and you receive a “summons” to report to the Department of Motor Vehicles for questioning and perhaps a bit of torture.
No joke about this.
DMVs are so notorious that CBS made a comedy/satire about the California DMV which, while based in Hollywood—probably because it can be a source of more interesting victims—could just as easily have been based on the Colorado Ave. location in Santa Monica from which I still have tics and other scars. Or in Pennsylvania for that matter. (As a historical note, the first time I registered to drive with this infamous arm of California state government, I wore my favorite tie, a blue and orange rep stripe. Do you know what a tie is? A rep stripe? One of the clerks commented how great it was and I gave it to him. Sadly, this had no impact on my “sentencing.” They might have considered it a bribe. Who knows?)
When we returned to Pennsylvania seven years ago, we had to go to our state’s DMV to obtain Pennsylvania licenses and it was equally horrific. Long lines, unclear requirements which necessitated multiple trips to and from because our “documentation” wasn’t compliant, and very surly state employees. It was better than California but not much—think Lewisburg Federal known as the “violence factory,” in Pennsylvania, versus Florence Federal, known as the Alcatraz of the Rockies. A little better but torture is torture.
So, after I had sent in my registration fee in and received my camera “subpoena” to appear for my photo to effect renewal, I was scared. I put it off until I could no longer put it off, had a meal of Cincinnati Chile, my favorite meal and what I would unquestionably choose as my “last request” meal, and slooooowly drove to the Bridgeville office of the Notorious DMV. Rhymes with Notorious B.I.G.
As I walked up to the entrance, I saw a line 10-15 deep, all victims getting their call number. And inside there had to be 50-75 tax-paying citizens.
But the line moved quickly, took maybe two-three minutes, and I barely had time to say hello to the guard at the door, a smart strategy I reasoned, when I got to the front of the line and was handed my call number, A177. Hmmm. What was going on?
I no sooner had stepped away from the desk than I heard “Would A177 please see the clerk at station five” over the loudspeaker system. I thought maybe the traffic warning I had recently received—see next blog—had prompted them to single me out for expedited “review.” Or that my wife had spiked my coffee and I was hallucinating.
The woman at station five, Doris, smiled at me, and said “Good morning. How are you today, honey?” and asked if the info on my camera card was accurate and correct. I said “yes,” waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Doris said, “Have a seat and we will take your picture.” At one point in this process—there were other things I needed to do like confirm I was a citizen, decide whether or not to be an organ donor, whether or not I needed to register to vote—I commented that she was actually going too fast and I couldn’t keep up. She was nice and not rushing me. I just wasn’t prepared for this and Doris was being efficient.
I sat, Doris took my picture, asked if I liked the photo and said “Have a seat in the waiting area, honey, and I’ll call you when your license it ready.” I had read about a paragraph of the latest Michael Connelly—a fitting DMV read I felt--when Doris called me, handed me my license and said, “Have a great day.”
I was super stunned. Super surprised. Super pleased. The whole affair took less than twelve minutes. (I was timing it.) I started to walk away but gathered my wits and walked back to her.
“Doris, I have to say, I was dreading coming over here today but this was one of the best customer experiences I have had in a long time. Anywhere. I lived in California for twelve years and went to the Cal DMV and this was 180 degrees the opposite of that. It’s was so bad out there they even made a t.v. show out of it. So, thank you very much.”
And now the punch line. As I walked away, I heard the attendant sitting next to Doris say, “Well, that was nice that someone thanked us for doing a good job.”
Gratitude. How often do we recognize good performance in our colleagues and subordinates? I am not talking at review time. Or when the employee works an eighty-hour week because that was what was required to get the job done. Hopefully, we are good at providing positive feedback in those cases. More often than not, we managers are good at that. Hopefully. If not, we should be fired.
I am talking about the more mundane, but often unacknowledged, aspects of every day performance. Like consistently getting an assignment done on time. Even if that colleague usually does get the job done on time. Doing it consistently warrants praise. Going the extra mile for a customer. Even if that is more often than not the case. Or just being pleasant and positive with colleagues and customers consistently. That warrants as “Atta Boy.” But too often, we take consistency for granted.
The reaction of the DMV employees to my gratitude was tangible. How sad and disappointing that my praise was an unusual experience for a group of people, who had historically been much maligned, but had now changed their processes such that they could do their job efficiently and pleasantly. My guess is, as miniscule as my gesture was, my recognition of a job well done, for a least a little bit, gave them a minor dopamine rush. Until the next #$%&^*^% came in anyway.
When we manage people, we should always remember to compliment them for even the most ordinary jobs-well-done. On a regular basis. It goes a long way in improving moral, improving customer service and improving loyalty to you, the thankful and appreciative leader, who took the time to recognize what they do for your company.
Public displays of gratitude do another important thing. They provide leadership. An example to others. To the man sitting next to Doris, who may not always be as friendly as Doris was, to try and be so the next time. To others waiting in line, who got great customer service from the DMV employees, to be similarly complimentary. Recognition is a good virus and going viral, in this instance, is a good thing.
And there is another lesson here too. Somewhere, deep in the bowls of the Commonwealth’s bureaucracy—I can’t believe I am saying this—some fine individual or individuals—I doubt it was a committee but you never know—decided to redesign the process, at least at this location, to make things efficient and, dare I say it, pleasant. The DMV achieved “pleasant” because the redesign enabled the staff to do the job well AND do so with a smile on their face. Yes, that “and not or” thing again. As business owners, we need to always try and look for the warning signs that what might be causing lousy outcomes may not be our employees, but the processes we are asking them to utilize to accomplish their tasks. Or, perhaps we, the owner/manager, might be the problem. But if you are not heeding the yellow flashing light, you might not avoid plowing into the busy intersection.
Finally, the attitude of gratitude should not be confined to your work place. If someone does a great job for you at Al’s Cafe, tell them they did so. If someone at the Get-Go is always joyful and friendly, thank them for that. Or better yet, leave them the buck or two that was left over from your fill-up. And call these people by name. And if they don’t wear a name tag, they almost always do, ask them their name. Nothing makes someone feel better and inspired than to be recognized for who they are and what they do. A business world, whether your business or others, where good/great performance exceeds expectations and is recognized, can only be a better world for all. And remember, consistent good performance is great performance. This is often overlooked.
I went to the DMV expecting the worst, three to five. Hours. Or miserable trips. Filled with rude, grumpy people and lousy service. I was radically caught off guard. And I could not help but thank the DMV employees for the most pleasant surprise. We should keep in mind the power of positive feedback, not only the unusual performance but also the consistent performance.
That got me to thinking. I wonder if we could get Doris to redesign the back office of the U.S. Post Office?
Show A Little Faith.