What's the world coming to if you can't gripe about the DMV?

Sure, we should be alarmed by allegations that lax security led to bogus driver's licenses flying out PennDot's doors. But the key word is flying. When did the historically horrible process of getting a driver's license become so speedy?

Even Attorney General Tom Corbett, who released the scathing Pennsylvania Department of Transportation report last week, acknowledged that the agency's problem was not systemic corruption but a maniacal focus on customer service.

The old PennDot seemed to take glee in making us wait. The new PennDot aims to provide service with a smile in less than 30 minutes.

That, Corbett explained, led supervisors to pressure underlings to "get them in and get them out."

I don't buy that the ticking clock forced front-desk workers to make phony licenses for known criminals. One employee was getting them for his friends and charging them $1,250 a pop.

But could being timed make low-level bureaucrats ignore verification rules and cut corners? If a job's on the line, anything's possible.

Service? With a smile?

A visit to a PennDot licensing center in Pennsport Thursday confirmed the previously unthinkable.

A friendly security guard held the door open for strangers.

Helpful staff sent citizens clutching documents in the right direction. For a minute, I thought I was in a State Store.

The floors were clean. Even the payment sign had a tender tone:

"Check or money order only. Sorry, we do not accept cash."

Granted, no one offered a hot towel, cold drink, or complimentary chair massage.

For that matter, there were no comfortable chairs.

But Ed Jones was smiling when I met him in the parking lot.

He did not scowl when I asked him to relive his PennDot experience.

"I was in and out in under 10 minutes," reported Jones, a 40-year-old bartender from Bella Vista. "It was very pleasant."

Did he really say pleasant? As I puzzled, Dorothy Hurd walked out raving about her new license.

"They even let you take the picture again and again if you don't like it," said Hurd, a 61-year-old retiree from Port Richmond. "I did mine three times."