So you want to attend Long Beach City College? Good luck

It all started in the shower. I looked down and realized there was a problem.

Several tiles on the shower floor were cracked and some were discolored. There was also grout missing between tiles on the floor and on the wall.

"How can I fix this?" I wondered. Should I hire someone? If so, how much would it cost? Or, I pondered, could I fix it myself?

Soon after, by luck, I found that nearby Long Beach City College offered an eight-session class in tiling as part of it's Home Remodeling curriculum. This sounded pretty good — I mean, you can learn a lot from YouTube videos, but there's nothing like having face-to-face instruction. I decided to sign up.

And so began a very strange odyssey. 

I found the class listed in the LBCC catalog, but something was missing: The cost. I scoured the college's website but could not find a price. So I found an email for "Adult Education" and sent my question there. Soon, I got a response from a gentleman named Franco: The class was a free! 

(I probably shouldn't tell LBCC this, but I would have probably paid as much as $150 for this class. But I'm not going to turn down free.)

The first step in enrolling was to go through an identity verification process. The LBCC website diverted me to the website ID.me. There, I had to submit photos of my driver's license (both front and back), do a video scan of my face, and submit my Social Security number and other personal details. It seemed a bit much for a free how-to class, but soon I was done and ready to enroll in the class.

Oops, no I wasn't. First I had to complete the college application. And it was not a short form.

Among the many details the form demanded were the dates I graduated from high school and college (not just the years, the exact dates). These events were over 40 years ago, mind you.

I had to name the highest math class I took in high school and the grade, the highest English class and that grade, too. 

They asked about my family size, family income, marital status, sexual orientation. They asked whether I needed housing or employment assistance, whether I wanted to be in student government, and whether I wanted to play on the school's badminton, bowling, fencing, football, lacrosse, soccer, tennis or wrestling teams. One strangely specific (and ungrammatical) question was: "What is the birth year of your youngest child under 18 years of age who receives more than half of their support from you?"

Again, it seemed a bit much to take a free class, but I eventually got through it and was ready to enroll in the class. Yay, finally.

So I clicked on the "Enroll in class" button and ... "Page not found." 

Sigh. The system apparently was getting an upgrade. 

I soon got an email asking me for feedback on the application process. Ah, thank you for asking, I do have some things to say. But when I clicked on the link to reach the survey, I only a got a page that said "Forbidden: You do not have permission to access to this resource." Sigh. Perhaps they didn't really feedback.

I waited three days and I tried to enroll again. This time the website worked, I easily found the class I wanted, and clicked on the button to enroll in the class and ... hit another barrier. 

This time, I got a message saying there was a "block" on my account and I couldn't enroll until I'd cleared that block. But there was no indication what the so-called block was, or what I was supposed to do about it. Do they offer communications classes at this college?

So I emailed Adult Education again. Franco was quick to respond — good job, Franco — and explained that I need to go into the Admissions Office and present my ID in person. 

This was good to know, though how I was supposed to have known this was unclear. I also wondered, if I had to present my ID in person, why did I have to go through online ID.me process?

Before I headed in to the Admission Office, I wanted to find out if I needed an appointment. I tried to call, but apparently no one in that office answers the phone. So I sent an email simply asking, "Can I come in anytime, or do I have to make an appointment?"

A day later I got an email response that gave me the addresses of two offices where I could present my ID. But they didn't answer my question about whether I needed an appointment. Do they offer reading classes at this college?

I sent another email asking whether I needed an appointment or not. No response. I emailed again. And again. Finally, after two weeks, I got an answer ("No, you do not need an appointment")

By that point, I didn't need that answer. I'd placed a Zoom "phone call" to LBCC. The rep who came on the call said yes, I could go in person to an admissions office to present my license, OR we could just do it on Zoom if I would turn my camera on. So I did so, held up my ID, he checked it and I was good.

This was a lot faster than going in in person, but if I hadn't called (well, Zoomed) I would never have known about it. 

Having completed the ID check, I did successfully enroll in the class. 

You might think that is the end of the story, but no. Remember that student survey that I was blocked from filling out? I waited three days and tried again, but I was still blocked. I emailed LBCC and asked how I could access the survey and got a response saying my application was "successfully submitted." I seems that LBCC specializes in not answering a direct question.

Then I got another response telling me to "click on the link within the email received." I replied to say that is exactly what I did, but it doesn't work. So naturally they responded to say they've marked the ticket "resolved."

I told them the issue was not resolved. Their response? "We've marked this ticket (#1072434) as resolved." 

All of this for a free class.

This story originally ended here. But wait there's more.