Some of my recent posts have focused on my “foibles.” More bluntly, my goofs,
mistakes, lapses, outrageous omissions, and…you get the idea. Last Friday, I committed
one of my best.
I
recently changed automobile insurance companies and was expecting a rebate
from my old policy in order to help pay for the new one. It arrived Friday.
Anxious to get it into my account, I drove to the bank fairly late that
afternoon. Before I slipped the check, together with my bank card and driver’s
license, into the shushing vacuum tube that mysteriously whisks them to a
teller, I noticed the license had expired two days earlier.
Although
I was sockless, in house slippers, and wearing my lounging pants (which some
call pajama bottoms), I raced to a Motor Vehicle Department office not far from
the bank. Once there, I had to get a number from a machine. Okay, nothing
unusual about that…but it insisted I select the type of service I wanted—and none
of them read “Renew a Driver’s License.” So I punched a likely button and received
a number with a 700 digit on it (they were calling number 167 at the time).
After
taking a seat and fretting over the fact there weren’t 500 people sitting in
the waiting room, I concluded I’d asked for the wrong service. Several other
clients had come in and taken a number before I decided to take action. I made
a second guess at the check-in machine and got a more appropriate number. Like
197. Made more sense. There were about 30 people plus children and hangers-on in the
room. Long and short of it…hours later, I got my temporary renewal license, a
paper thing that’s to serve notice the real, genuine, plastic doodad is on its
way. Instructions accompanying the phony license gave stern warning to keep the
paper one with the expired license for ID purposes. Happy to get out of there,
I returned to my car, clutching the paperwork.
Can
you guess what happened next? You got it. When I got out of the car at home, I
discovered my expired license was missing. Another trip to MVD. Nothing where
my car had been parked. Not a scrap of paper (or plastic) between there and the
office. The guard on the door said no one had turned in a
lost license to her. Feeling I was about to be the victim of ID theft and all
sorts of fraud, I returned home to fret some more. By the way, I'm a worrier.
The
MVD was closed over the weekend, so early Monday morning, I started calling. I
don’t know about your MVD, but in ours, you can hear the phones ringing and
ringing and ringing. So I wasn’t surprised when no one answered. I tried several
times. Unsuccessfully. On my way to the writing class I co-teach, I stopped by
and found a sign on the door saying they were closed for Columbus Day, a state
and federal holiday. Duh! (To be honest, I also checked on my mail twice…once
after finding the note on MVD’s door.)
All
of that was set-up for what follows. Tuesday morning, I had three calls to
make. The first was to MVD. The phone was answered after the second ring, and “Yes
sir, we have your license in Lost and Found. You can pick it up anytime.”
Relieved
and elated, I made the second call to the North Domingo Baca Multigenerational
Center to ask for permission to move our class from 2:00 p.m. to 1:30 p.m. and
keep that as our permanent home (we were there as guests while Bear Canyon
Senior Center was under repair). “Yes sir. We can accommodate both of those
requests.”
The
third call was to take advantage of a benefit offered by my health insurance
company to have a nurse conduct a Health and Well-Being Assessment (even though
I’d told them this was a “no call” number and hung up on them when they'd phoned
a week ago to make the appointment). “Yes sir, the nurse can be there on the morning of
the 29th.” No mention of my previous rudeness.
Wow!
The day was going great. I got in the car and painlessly retrieved my lost
license. Then I went to Smiths for some grocery shopping and found they had
paper bags. They haven’t had paper bags for weeks!
That’s
when I tumbled to what was going on. I was being set up for a fall. This day
couldn’t go anywhere but down. I drove home using extra care. I obeyed the
speed limit and didn’t even tailgate. Once parked successfully, I entered my
apartment, locked the door, and figuratively hid under the bed.
Next week: I’ll think of
something.
New posts are published at 6:00
a.m. each Thursday.
i refuse to watch the news... media. i do not ever want to 'see' what congress is doing. i have become rude, mean and abusive. i do not want friends. then i read your blog. ha. maybe that's what i should do until i become a human again. it must be the halloween season. normally i love it. I should hide under your bed. ha ha ha ha
ReplyDeletess. burrus
i don't know how to select my profile.... oops.
Keep on plugging SS. It'll all come out in the end. Best of luck.
ReplyDelete