The joys of red tape

After months of avoiding it, yesterday I decided to finally make the ten block trip to the closest social security office and apply for a Social Security Number... The building, the waiting area, public servants with attitude, all reminiscent of that visit to get a NI number (UK equivalent of a social security or tax file number) back in 2002. That little exercise required an appointment and half a day of waiting. A good opportunity to interact with society's participants whom you would not encounter in everyday life. I was prepared for it, but this was that and more.

The stoner with attitude walked in right after me. The muttering in the lift should have been a sure sign. Moving his chair in the aisle and then very very reluctantly, over a ten min period, inching it (sort of) back into place, with urge from the burly security guard. All while meticulously taking stuff out of his buttoned up pockets, buttoning them up and repeating the process when replacing each item back. A fisherman hat low over his eyes and muttering. As soon as someone sat next to him he moved away muttering insults. Nice! What looked like a rolled up skipping rope firmly in his hands ... I don't even want to go there.

Two society ladies in their casual cashmere and shawls. Sighing with impatience having to deal with this 'common' situation. Another Park Avenue Princess drooping in diamonds looked far from impressed. I think single, as she spotted the one borderline ok looking guy and did not hesitate to plonk herself next him, all while trying to crack a lame joke. The average single NYC woman gives the rest of us a bad name!

Nervous guy, who I sat next to, started muttering to me about having to replace his SS card, and not understanding why. He eventually got called and was turned away for not having the right documents. All that made him more nervous. He was quivering and repeating the instructions given by the helpful public servant, more than once. Something about being nervous to lose something or other. Poor guy, but on the 4th round of repeating instructions I joined the rest of the waiting room in a collective eye roll. Thankfully, he then rushed off in a huff.

Eventually my number was called. So many better ways to spend a Friday afternoon.