First things first: I have reacquired my tablet.
As you may recall from last month, I lost my tablet on my return flight from CEDIA, and the airline set my expectations of recovery about as low as possible. Weeks later, I got an email declaring my property had been recovered. It was mailed to me (for a reasonable fee) and my faith in humanity was restored.
And then I went to the DMV.
You see, that trip to CEDIA had also prompted me to address another travel issue. A few years ago, I updated my driver's license to a REAL ID—and since that time, it's been a regular, predictable problem at the airport. Apparently, there is a known issue with some Florida licenses. Lucky me.
Here's how it works: I hand over my license, the TSA agent puts it in a machine, and the machine makes a loud rejection noise that seems more suited to a TV game show. Then, like clockwork, the agent rubs my license on their pant leg, reinserts the license, gets the same rejection buzzer, looks at me, rolls their eyes, writes some sort of note, and sends me on my way.
Heading to CEDIA, the agent actually sent me back to the counter to get a paper ticket, as my government-issued REAL ID—combined with my facial recognition photo and TSA PreCheck status—just wasn't convincing. I figured it was time to solve the problem for good, so I made my appointment online with Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles.
Simple enough, except the website warned me that I should plan for my appointment to be 60-90 minutes after my actual appointment time. There's some nugget of Seinfeldian observational humor hiding in that kind of admitted inefficiency. I wound up only waiting 65 minutes, so I guess that's a win?
[Tech Perspectives: The Emperor Has No Clothes]
At the counter, I explained my TSA dilemma. The worker asked about my last flight and then requested my license. She came back in short order and declared that my license didn't work. The entire SCN collective should be proud of my restraint, as I did not say, "Well, duh," or any other salty variation on that theme.
From there, it was a flurry of photos and electronic paperwork. Because I already had a REAL ID, that same website explained that I did not need to bring any additional documentation. So, of course, my case worker asked me for proof of address. Thankfully, my premeditated paranoia saved the day; I handed over my current utility bill and we continued.
When she returned with my shiny new driver's license, I asked if she had checked it to make sure it worked. Of course, she explained, she wouldn't give me a license that didn't work. She did not see the irony.
I have no beef with the woman behind the counter. She confirmed my issue was real, made sure my new photo was in focus, and delivered a new license to me in a reasonable amount of time. The whole process took maybe 10 minutes, and she was pleasant throughout the experience. My problem is that my appointment time was not respected and online instructions were countermanded. So, while my personal interaction was fine, my overall customer experience was a disappointment.
[On Your Business: Sales Is Not a Four-Letter Word]
So, what are the teachable moments here? First, there's been some consolidation in the Pro AV world, but there are still plenty of options out there for companies, churches, schools, live event producers, and others who need your services. Being consistently late, changing documentation requirements, providing products or solutions that don't work properly—that may be business as usual for a government monopoly, but it's not good policy for an integrator. If customers can count on not being able to count on you, they will not remain your customers for long.
Finally, it must be said, if federal government agents make a habit out of vigorously rubbing your documentation on their legs, you probably need to get something checked.
