The Wizard of OZ.

Screw it, sometimes you’ve got no choice but to lay out a rant.

I have lost my one year old daughter’s social security card. Yup, I am that bad parent. But think about it, how often do you need this? You can remember your number, you should not be expected to remember someone else’s. Half the time, I can’t even remember my home phone number.

This is bad because April 15 is fast approaching. That means taxes.

I don’t do my own taxes as my wife may suggest that I am to “moral” and not take off enough deductions. I say nay, this is not the case. I just would like to not spend the next 3 to 5 in prison with my roommate “Shanky Mcstabb”. On a side note, I freely admit that I would become someone’s bitch for protection. I see no shame in that.

So hiring someone to do my taxes has nothing to do with morality, it has to do with my butthole. And I’m sure he could do a better job than I could with it. If he can get just 1 more extra dollar more than his fee, it’s totally worth it. To date, I have not been disappointed.

But now I am ready for the parents dream. The big fat child deduction. She was born in Feb of 2006, so that’s almost a whole year. I would like to say that we are going to do something good with the money, maybe something noble or stable for the family.

We might, but I’ll be damned if I don’t get a new Xbox game or tool. Either one, I’m happy with it. I know that detractors will say that I spent much more on actually having a child. Yup, you’re right. But think of this of a rebate and there you go.

Unfortunately, you cannot file your taxes with the child deduction without a SSN for your child. I lost hers. We are in the process of moving so it has got to be somewhere in the bottomless boxes, most likely next to the 1999 computer parts that my wife won’t let me through out because she is worried about identity theft.

I want my money. I want my game. I am going to get my money like a loan shark in Philly. They owe me, man.

So I visit the Social Security Administration website to figure out how to get a new card and the number. This is problem number one. No government agency should be allowed to design it’s own website. I don’t care what the 2002 legislature said jerky, I just need basic how to info.

I eventually find the page. There is some good information but I am concerned. I am concerned because it appears to deal with only that section of the population over the age of 16. To get a new card, you have to fill out a governmental form then provide ID.

I hope everyone sees the inherent problem with that. My daughter is one. She lost her ID in a bar fight. Seriously, I cannot find anything that relates to this problem.

I work for the government, so I should be a master at working through the system. I call the number given.

Hello Ms. Recorded Sexy voice, how are you today. If I am fine, please press 1. If you are not fine, please press 2.

It’s amazing how quickly the frustration sets in so quickly. I am jamming 2 like it’s the abort button to a nuclear launch.

I go through a series of prerecorded messages, none of which have to do with the problem of no ID that I am facing. No, I am not applying for a new SS number. No, I am not a resident alien. No, I do not like green eggs and ham Sam I am.

But being a governmental man, I know the tricks. As soon as the voice starts talking I hit 0 or say customer service. That’s the trick and it seems to work well. However, Ms. Recorded Sexy Voice keeps trying to talk me out of it. She keeps referring me back to the website or threatening that I will be on hold for a very long time. Is she with the Mafia? Is she suggesting that perhaps it would be better if she broke my legs rather than talk with someone?

Finally I make it through and talk to a very nice lady. I appreciate this. When I get these calls as a governmental worker, I try to be as accommodating as I can. Otherwise I would hate my ownself.

I explain my problem and she promptly lets me know that as long as I have my ID and my daughter’s insurance card it should be no problem. She gives me the address to the nearest office and off I go.

When I get there, it’s not to bad. There are only about 5 people ahead of me so I think I should be out of here in about 20 minutes or so. Mistake number one: never assume that you will be out of a governmental office in less than 3 hours.

There is a new twist on the “take a number” thing. Now its through a computer. You press a number giving the general description of your request and it prints out a receipt. Of course I know that this probably cost around 3 billion bucks to develop and a monkey could have thought of a better way. I guess the straight forward paper number just wasn’t cutting it.

I am number A68. I have no idea what that means. I then soon discover that the number actually doesn’t mean anything. Not a thing, there is no order here. You would think that I would come after A67. Nope. After A67 came B45. These sound like vitamin supplements. What drove me up the God Damn wall was that B45 came in a good 45 minutes after I did. I immediately hate her. So would you. It’s ok, we can all judge here.

Next comes C12, then another B, then an A78. This last one pisses me off. What the hell happened to the rest of us schmoos? I hope that A78 falls and breaks her hip.

Two hours later I am finally called. I go up to the wizard of oz window looking to see the wizard. Please god, this has taken me roughly 8 hours today, please, just make this quick. God is very funny.

I start with a joke and he doesn’t laugh. It was gold and I didn’t even get a smile. This is not going well.

I explain my problem again. The man behind the counter actually rolls his eyes at me. I want to whip out my government badge, let him know that I am one of him. Let him know that I am a current fraternity brother and that I know the secret handshake. I want to pop him.

I guess it is popular to go ahead and start talking without listening because as he is explaining that I need to leave and go get medical records I stop him and give him her insurance card. He seems disappointed. But at this time, I want the number so bad that I am kissing major ass.

He looked up her number and began writing it on a post it note, upside down from my view. I am in full James Bond persona now. I am reading what he is writing upside down. This is my special skill, upside down number reading. I’ll make millions. I’m am sure that he is going to send me away, but damit, I want that number jerkoff. Very nonchalantly, I start writing the number on the inside of my hand. The CIA should hire me.

To my surprise, he gives it to me 30 minutes later. Victory is once again mine. I shall get my child tax deduction!

My daughter can’t count yet, but I guarantee you her first 9 numbers will be her Social Security number.

1 comment:

  1. You crack me up! I needed that. FYI - we washed Tristan's SS Card...Luckily it only faded and is about to disintegrate, but still legible.