Thursday, June 11, 2015

"SOCIAL" as in "OFFICE" doesn't mean "FUN"

Yesterday,   Mom went to the place where she said all the old peoples, broken peoples, & peoples that want/need go to sign up for stuff.  She said she's ignored all the phone calls an' has probably filled up ten trash bags w/all the unwanted mail from people wantin her to go here or there or sign up for somethin' called medicare.  (She has been tempted to fill some of 'em out w/my name...but decided it would be too much trouble an' she'd never get rid of the salesmens).  Anyway, since she's procrastinated for so long, dad told her she better go since she's gonna be really "OLD" in about a month an' those official peoples might not like her not doin' it in time. she goes w/her purse full of documentation that dad said he had to have. Not havin' ever been to the Social Security Office, she went early armed w/her kindle w/a trash novel on it figurin' that it's a government agency, so she'd be waitin'.  She said she don''t know why they call it by that name, it's not a fun or social place at all.  When she walked inside, there was a big room w/bunches an' bunches of those metal foldin' chairs full of peoples.   Along the far wall was lil' windows w/peoples helpin' other peoples.   She said she saw a line in front of a computer other information...but she figured it had to have somethin' to do w/lettin'  "them" know she was there.  That was a wait in itself.  Finally, it was her turn...she selected "English", put in her SS #, then her birthdate, hit "end"' a lil piece of paper spit out w/the number...101.

Clutchin' that lil' piece of paper, she found a seat in one of them "not comfy" chairs, somewheres on about the 20th row.  She did a lil' people watchin'....'cause there were some characters an' all kinds.  Some made her the people that brought lil' kids (there's no tv, brochures, signs, nada...just yellow painted walls & those grey metal chairs an' wall to wall people).  She looked again at that lil' still said "101"' they just called #15.

Mom lost track of the time, while enjoyin' her trashy novel.  Dad said that the size of her font probably made it possible for several people to enjoy it as well. (She says it's that size in case she don't feel like wearin' her glasses or contacts...& if she works just as well).  Finally, the called her to window #4....the man had all her information in front of him...& asked her if she was signin' up for just medicare A or B or both....she said just A.  He then told her that they close at noon on Wed., an' they aren't allowed to take applications for medicare after 11 am.  (Just imagine mom's eyes startin' to squint an' lil' trails of smoke leakin' outa her ears).  She said that he musta' noticed, 'cause he really quick like, pulled up the offical site on his c'mputer an' faced the monitor towards her.  Then he showed her what to click on to apply online...easy peasy.  She felt a lil' better after that, but decided to make use of a live person, an' asked him about gettin' some money outa them for all the years she worked.  He was still tryin' to make mom happy, so he went a printed out a thing that showed how much she could get now or in the future.  Then he showed her that she could do that online as well...again, easy peasy.

So...she figures they don't want her to come back down there...which is ok w/her.  The people, the chairs, the walls, the people..omg..the people...just not her thing.  She does still have a few questions...why did dad have to have so much documentation?  He had to go back a second time w/birth certificates of both his mom an' dad.  Mom never even had to show an ID, an' when she filled it out online it was super easy, an' even takes an' electronic signature.  No mailin' anythin' in.  Last question...why don't more people do it' those that don't...why don't they have a trashy novel or somethin' to read? Surely, everybody in there knew there was gonna be a wait.  What kind of person is ok w/just sittin' an starin' at yellow walls?

Does it bother her to be about to turn "OLD"?  Not at all, she' lookin' forward to more discounts at places.  As for me...she's just the same ol' mom, the one that tries to help us when we've got a situation.  Like this mornin'..we were sure there was somethin' in those tires, dad had stacked up.  They were way too heavy for us to move & diggin' under 'em wasn't really effective.  Mom came over an' moved one of 'em a lil'.  We were right...there was a mouse in there!  An' you shoulda' seen how fast mom moved as it ran across her foot....just like a was the

No comments:

Post a Comment