Monday, November 28, 2011
I'm Gonna Need Some Assistance
Saturday, Mims was reading the local paper, the Gadsden County Times. He was reading out loud, as he often does. Most times, when he's finished reading the paper, there is no need for me to look at it at all. Except maybe to look at the pictures. Because he has read absolutely everything that is worthy of knowing, to me. As this process continues, he says something that catches my attention immediately. Like, as soon as I hear what he says, I'm flinging my hands to my face, shouting, "good gosh almighty". He jumps out of his skin...and here we go.
Turns out, they are closing the local license renewal offices at our Gadsden County Patrol Station. This Wednesday, November 30th, is the last day of local operation. All other renewals will be done in Tallahassee. After Wednesday. Now as earth shattering as this news may be, that news has nothing on the fact of what the real problem is here. The quandary I have now re-created for myself.
Yeah, that's pretty much it. My birthday WAS November the 4th. Today is November 28th. You can do that math. My license, that I thought was late last January, and it was not even due yet, IS expired NOW. Sweet sugar. Yeah.
So the panic is on again. To get there before they shut it down and pray I don't have to pay a late fee. I do at least have all my items now. The birth certificate, marriage certificate, social security card, two recent bills which represent my present address, ♫ and a partridge in a pear tree♫ .
I arrive at 8:20am. There are three people there. I am ready. I have my handy dandy Fed Ex package with all my information in it. They call number seven. I am number eight. This is moving fast. Number seven is not ready, he's waiting on someone, he changes tickets with me! Alright!! Looka here. Lady luck is shining on me! I thank him profusely, get up and go to the counter. I start digging out all of my stuff. I'm pulling it out, unfolding it, flattening out the long folded up sheets flat with my hands. I'm at the bottom of the packet. And I don't see it. I look again. Still no. I'm starting to sweat. I look through all the papers already drug out and on the counter, again. As if this is going to produce what I'm missing. My birth certificate. It's missing. My lip is now glistening. It is not there. Why oh why, is the same thing that gave me such a fit before, causing this problem again now?! The lady sighs and tells me that I have to have it in order to complete the process. She gives me an extension letter for 60 days. Tells me good luck.
Now the only problem with this extension paper is they won't be here IN SIXTY DAYS. I will have to go to Tallahassee to take care of this problem. So I load up my stuff and decided immediately I would go back to the house and look for my missing item.
I walk straight into the house to the cabinet where all of that was stored and I begin to RIP through it. And I spot it, almost immediately, in another packet. A UPS packet. The one it came next day air in. A YEAR AGO. Why did I not combine it with the other packet? See what it got me? Moving on, thank goodness. Now, to get back in the truck, drive back across town, which is all of a ten minute drive, and get this thing done.
I pull back in the parking lot to see not the three vehicles that were there when I left, but now there are eight vehicles. I park, lower my head, say a small prayer, and get out of the truck.
In Gadsden County, for eight vehicles, you have approximately four people per vehicle. Guess what I walked into once back inside? So yeah, you can do THAT math too. I pull my ticket, which is now number 30 and I sit down. They are bellowing number 25 as my behind touches the seat. Great grand, five more people ahead of me. There are only two women behind the counter. I lower my head again and close my eyes to keep them from dripping water.
Now because it's the last 3 days of operation, everybody in kingdom come is there to get their problems straightened out. License's that have not been renewed for child support purposes, non-paid tickets, and fresh out of jail, ready to re-enter society and need their licenses renewed....people.
"Dey don't owe no money. Dey chil'ren is grown now. Dey don't owe dat woman no money. Dey paid dat ticket. Dey wutin' speedin' no how. Dat waz all bullsheet. Dey served dey time, dey sho did, dey jus' needs to get dey papers skrait. Dey don' knowed nothin' bout no outstanding warrents. Dey pait dey debt."
I listened to that crap for another hour and 15 minutes. I thought I was gonna blow up and go postal in the patrol station. I was bleeding from my words going down my throat and through my body, cutting up my insides all the way down. Sharp ugly words. Ready to EXPLODE words. Ready to do bodily harm words.
Finally it's my turn. She smiles, when she sees me again. I am trying to smile back. It is hard. She takes all my information. Smiles again, because now I have it all. I am gritting my teeth so hard, my jaws are hurting. But everything goes smoothly. I have no outstanding warrants. I don't owe any child support. And I have no unserved sentences, that I'm aware of anyway.Which is a dang wonder. I was praying the whole time she was typing in my information. Because everyone that had come up prior to me, had no luck at all with those computers of death and their awful information.
I don't have to have my license renewed again until 2019! By then, my early stages of Alzheimer's
will definitely be in full swing. I expect, I won't even know my name by then. So somebody is gonna have to elect themselves to be my caretaker. Not that I will necessarily need to know when to get my license renewed. Hell, I won't even know where the hell I'm going by then. But I will need help getting fed and dressed. Volunteers?