Wha'd I Do?
Saturday morning I was awakened at the un-Earthly hour of 9:30 A.M. by a phone call — never a good thing. I don't know about you, but it was my weekend. The day, of all others, that I, Granola G. Girl, get to sleep in past 7 and not feel guilty about it.
This phone calls, it turns out, was my credit card company calling to tell me that I hadn't paid my bill this past month. Impossible! I distinctly recall writing out the check and sending it off. I paid the guy over the phone, and he asked me if I had a change of address. Sure did, in fact, I changed it when I sent my bill in. When I woke up enough to be coherent, I checked my bank online and found that not only had that check not been cashed, but neither had another check to a different credit card company that I had sent out at the same time. Someone had stolen my mail.
So, I did what any one would do, I called my mom to complain. Then, I went to the bank to cancel my checks. The lobby was closed, but the drive up was open. I explained to the girl at the window that I needed to cancel two checks. "Ok, let me get the forms." (I should note that this was said in the blondest manner possible, and the conversation continued in that manner.) Five minutes later she came back and said, "Actually, we can't cancel your checks today, but we can do it Monday. Is that going to be ok?" Uh, NO, you ninny. If it could wait until Monday do you think I would be trying to do it before you close in 15 minutes? Yeah, I didn't think so, either. What sort of idiot asks 'Is that ok?'? 'I'm sorry, we can't,' sure, I can understand that, but 'is that ok?'! What I did say to her, in a tone of voice that was completely annoyed, was, "No. Can I have my cards back?" When she returned them I drove off, and didn't even wait for the "Have a nice day" crap I was going to be subjected to. I was in a pissy mood.
After the bank I went to the Post Office. I decided that I was going to get a post office box, thus ensuring that no one is stealing any of my mail, coming or going, and, that PuppyDogsAndBows doesn't open it. Ever. Again. After standing in line for 25 or so minutes while the one postal worker chatted with four people getting their passports — does it really take that long to take a couple of photos? — I was about to go postal. Finally, they finished up, and I got to the counter: "I'd like to know about post office boxes?" He gave me the run down, which included the fact that they have only the large size available, which is $120 a year. Excuse me? My favorite bit was when he told me that they needed proof of physical address, so my car registration, or driver's license would do. Well, I told him, I just moved, so would that notice they had sent me with my change of address be sufficient? You know, the one that said all over it, "Keep for your records. This can be presented at the Department of Motor Vehicles as evidence of a change of address."? Turns out, you can't. Yeah, that is good enough for the DMV, but not good enough for the institution that issued it. So, I couldn't take care of that. Turns out, because he took so much time flapping his gums with the people before me, that I didn't have time to go home to grab the one item I could actually present as evidence of my move — my lease agreement.
I left there and headed over to the police station to file a report on my stolen mail, just in case. I had to wait 20 minutes for an officer to come take my information. Now, I understand that mail theft isn't exactly a high priority crime. I understand that there are loads of other things that come much higher on the totem pole than a couple of checks being stolen. However, we're talking about noon on a Saturday, in Provo (recently listed as the "Most Secure City in the US"), it's not like crime is out of control. I'm sure they were doing all sorts of important things, like taking the report on a couple of text books someone found, or returning an impounded bicycle, but I was the only person in the waiting room, and no one even glanced my direction. In fact, at one point the officer who later took my info, came out and chatted with the dispatcher about the incident with the impounded bike. When he finally did take my statement I felt a bit stupid reporting it, but, hey, if they wash my checks I'd be screwed, so I delt.
I went home, and continued in my pissed off state. I was sitting on the porch reading when PuppyDogsAndBows came home. She poked her head out to say hi and ask how I was. "I'm in a really pissy mood, actually." I informed/warned her. "Why, wha'd I do?" she asked, genuinely concerned that she had done something. I told her she had done nothing, unless she had gone over to my other house, and stolen my mail six weeks ago. Then I rehashed my day to her. I don't understand why she automatically assumed that she was at fault, sometimes people have crappy days and you have nothing to do with it. The funny (ironic, not 'ha ha') thing is, I was warning her, so if I snapped at her unthinkingly she would know that it wasn't something she had done.
It's gonna be a long year.
This phone calls, it turns out, was my credit card company calling to tell me that I hadn't paid my bill this past month. Impossible! I distinctly recall writing out the check and sending it off. I paid the guy over the phone, and he asked me if I had a change of address. Sure did, in fact, I changed it when I sent my bill in. When I woke up enough to be coherent, I checked my bank online and found that not only had that check not been cashed, but neither had another check to a different credit card company that I had sent out at the same time. Someone had stolen my mail.
So, I did what any one would do, I called my mom to complain. Then, I went to the bank to cancel my checks. The lobby was closed, but the drive up was open. I explained to the girl at the window that I needed to cancel two checks. "Ok, let me get the forms." (I should note that this was said in the blondest manner possible, and the conversation continued in that manner.) Five minutes later she came back and said, "Actually, we can't cancel your checks today, but we can do it Monday. Is that going to be ok?" Uh, NO, you ninny. If it could wait until Monday do you think I would be trying to do it before you close in 15 minutes? Yeah, I didn't think so, either. What sort of idiot asks 'Is that ok?'? 'I'm sorry, we can't,' sure, I can understand that, but 'is that ok?'! What I did say to her, in a tone of voice that was completely annoyed, was, "No. Can I have my cards back?" When she returned them I drove off, and didn't even wait for the "Have a nice day" crap I was going to be subjected to. I was in a pissy mood.
After the bank I went to the Post Office. I decided that I was going to get a post office box, thus ensuring that no one is stealing any of my mail, coming or going, and, that PuppyDogsAndBows doesn't open it. Ever. Again. After standing in line for 25 or so minutes while the one postal worker chatted with four people getting their passports — does it really take that long to take a couple of photos? — I was about to go postal. Finally, they finished up, and I got to the counter: "I'd like to know about post office boxes?" He gave me the run down, which included the fact that they have only the large size available, which is $120 a year. Excuse me? My favorite bit was when he told me that they needed proof of physical address, so my car registration, or driver's license would do. Well, I told him, I just moved, so would that notice they had sent me with my change of address be sufficient? You know, the one that said all over it, "Keep for your records. This can be presented at the Department of Motor Vehicles as evidence of a change of address."? Turns out, you can't. Yeah, that is good enough for the DMV, but not good enough for the institution that issued it. So, I couldn't take care of that. Turns out, because he took so much time flapping his gums with the people before me, that I didn't have time to go home to grab the one item I could actually present as evidence of my move — my lease agreement.
I left there and headed over to the police station to file a report on my stolen mail, just in case. I had to wait 20 minutes for an officer to come take my information. Now, I understand that mail theft isn't exactly a high priority crime. I understand that there are loads of other things that come much higher on the totem pole than a couple of checks being stolen. However, we're talking about noon on a Saturday, in Provo (recently listed as the "Most Secure City in the US"), it's not like crime is out of control. I'm sure they were doing all sorts of important things, like taking the report on a couple of text books someone found, or returning an impounded bicycle, but I was the only person in the waiting room, and no one even glanced my direction. In fact, at one point the officer who later took my info, came out and chatted with the dispatcher about the incident with the impounded bike. When he finally did take my statement I felt a bit stupid reporting it, but, hey, if they wash my checks I'd be screwed, so I delt.
I went home, and continued in my pissed off state. I was sitting on the porch reading when PuppyDogsAndBows came home. She poked her head out to say hi and ask how I was. "I'm in a really pissy mood, actually." I informed/warned her. "Why, wha'd I do?" she asked, genuinely concerned that she had done something. I told her she had done nothing, unless she had gone over to my other house, and stolen my mail six weeks ago. Then I rehashed my day to her. I don't understand why she automatically assumed that she was at fault, sometimes people have crappy days and you have nothing to do with it. The funny (ironic, not 'ha ha') thing is, I was warning her, so if I snapped at her unthinkingly she would know that it wasn't something she had done.
It's gonna be a long year.
posted by granola girl at 8:32 am
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