The DVLA

The DVLA are shit. I have proof.

Polite Welsh Man: Hello, this is the DVLA. How can I help?
Me: Hello, yes, I wonder if you can help me. My car tax is due at the end of this month, but I haven't received a reminder yet, the number from which I need in order to fill in your wizzy Internet application for a car tax disc, thus saving you, the government, money, thus saving me, the taxpayer, money, thus benefitting both of us in a mutual not-as-much-money-being-spent kind of a way.
PWM: Ah, no problem sir, we'll send one out right away. Can you just confirm the registration number?
Me: Yes, it's Sierra Five One Five Juliet Charlie, er, whatever the phonetic for "Y" is*.

(a brief dialogue ensues)

PWM: Ah, but you see the thing is, we haven't received a change of owner for that car, so the reminder will have gone to the old owner.
Me: Ah, but you see the thing is, I do own this car, I've owned it since September, I've got the car keys, I've got the code for the radio, I've got it pre-programmed to all the radio stations that I like, at least insofar as it's possible to like nine of the frankly rather poor radio stations currently available in this country. I've got the thing from the dealer that says it's mine, all my friends have seen me in it, my mum's taken my photo in it, I've even got that funny little bit of New Keeper paper and everything. I know: How about I just give you the number off that and you can send me the reminder that way?
PWM: I'm afraid you'll have to send us the New Keeper slip along with an Application Form. Then we'll send you a Log Book.
Me: And one I get a Log Book, I can get the car taxed, right?
PWM: That's right sir.
Me: OK, how long will that take?
PWM: About six weeks, sir, all being well.
Me: Six weeks huh? Well, that is very quick given the huge amount of effort clearly involved on your part, but I kind of need it taxed at the end of this month - that is to say, in considerably less than six days, never mind the sextuplet of weeks of which you speak. How could I get it taxed in the meantime? Can I get some sort of interim road tax dispensation order, perhaps, or a letter from the Queen?
PWM: I'm afraid not sir, obviously you'll have to keep it off the road until you want to get it taxed.
Me: Ah yes, that is obvious now you put it that way. But I want to get it taxed now. I have insurance, I have an MOT, I even have a ridiculous sum of money which I wish to give unto you as a token of respect for the superbly efficient administration system which it appears you have constructed.
PWM: Yes, but you don't have a Log Book, I'm afraid.
Me: And why don't I have a Log Book?
PWM: Because we haven't received details of you having taken ownership.
Me: But I've just given you the details.
PWM: We need it on the proper form, I'm afraid sir.
Me: But you accept that I'm the owner of the car?
PWM: Yes sir.
Me: And you accept that I have valid insurance, MOT, and some money with which to pay you the requisite price?
PWM: Yes sir.
Me: Yet despite these facts, despite the clear evidence that I am doing everything I possibly can in order to stay on the right side of the law, no matter what injustices and wrongs have been done unto me, the motoring public, by you, the evil persecuting public-transport-obsessed monolithic state, you still refuse to grant me the one thing I cherish and desire above all else** despite the relative simplicity of doing so, thus forcing me to choose between wilfully living the life of a brigand and an outlaw, or an inability to travel in my car in order to, for example, I don't know, get to my job perhaps, or do my shopping, yes, the shopping for the food and drink I require to live and without which my body will wither and die, or, well, let's say, visit my mother?
PWM: That's about the size of it, yes, sir.
Me: I see. Well, is there anything else you can suggest I do?
PWM: Yes sir. Perhaps you could leave the car off the road either on the drive that you don't have or in the garage that you also don't have, whilst using the contingency car that funnily enough you don't have either in order to fulfil your personal transport type requirements. Or you could perhaps indulge in a spot of pogo stickery? Or possibly you could fly around everywhere, if you're richer than Cardinal Richelieu and not too worried about the carbon emissions.
Me: Right, thanks then.
PWM: Is there anything else I can help you with today then, sir?
Me: I don't think it's technically possible to answer that question, since doing so would imply that you have already helped me with something, a conclusion clearly not in alignment with the facts as they present themselves for independent inspection, I think you must agree.
PWM: Okay, good point, anything else you want to discuss then?
Me: Yes. Fuck you, DVLA. Fuck you.
PWM: Thank you very much sir.
Me: Thanks then. Bye.
PWM: Goodbye.

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* it's "Yankee", as it turns out
** my dear reader excepted, of course. If you are clever, pretty, rich, and single. And a girl.