So Monday morning I show up at our local side branch post office for my passport application processing.
Red Flag #1: Why does our small town with a population of about 10,000 residents need an auxiliary post office branch? IDK, but it's 2.4 miles closer so I go with it.
Red Flag #2: Why does the government put passport application processing in the hands of the post office? What's more, in this day and age, why do we have "in-person" processing anyway? Hello, ever heard of the internet? For that matter, why do we fuck around with little paper booklets with a chintzy 2x2" photo in it as passports in our technological time? Can't we just scan our fingerprint at the airport? Or maybe facial recognition software? You know if governments have that info, they know, among a shitload of other things, where you were born.
Despite my excellent skills at filling out forms (Lakewood cred) I neglected to read on the passport application instructions on the state department's website that applicants need to bring both an original AND photocopy of their state-issued photo ID and their government entity issued birth certificate. I figured, for the "acceptance fee" of $35, they'd throw in free copies. NOPE! I was told I had to provide my own. What's more, the post office "passport acceptance officer" Audrey, said that my little tattered 50-year-old birth certificate would not suffice, it had to be a long-form. So I guess with Trump in charge now, everyone, not just President Obama, has to cough up a long-form birth certificate.
So barked at her a bit but not too much. It wasn't her fault, I said. But then again, as I thought it over later...maybe it was. She had a way about her that bespoke of a certain kind of extra level customer support that included subtle passive aggressiveness. It's hard to detect sometimes but guess who can detect it easily...people like me who used to employ the same technique in their past customer service jobs.
I went home and applied for my Rhode Island birth certificate and received it ($60 later) two days later. Copied all my shit, front and back if applicable, and rescheduled an appointment for earlier today.
Walked into the post office, saw Audrey to the left at the long counter but was asked to approach by another female employee. She regrettably said I'd have to wait for Audrey since she was the only "passport acceptance overlord" available on shift. As Audrey, who, I could see had seen me and undoubtedly remembered me from a few days before, took an exorbitant amount of time chatting small talk with her customer, another zombie employee walked by and asked if I were being helped, I said yes. I peered around and saw all the detritus of a sad, depressing workplace. A tiny calendar taped to the sidewall for an employee (Sheila's) cubicle. It was so incredibly tiny that I don't think it was really used as a calendar, but as a physical metaphor for how tiny and insignificant her dreams had become...expressed as a calendar though, so she'd be reminded month, after month, after month.
When Audrey was finally free, I approached with my impressive array of papers for her. She didn't blink an eye or state a phrase of acknowledgement that she remembered me. She took my stuff and asked if I brought a photo with me. I got heated immediately and said that I'd arranged for photo services which I paid for. She said I hadn't paid for any photo services.
Red Flag # 3: I should have known from Monday's visit that this bitch was a passive-aggressive cunt. She knew from Monday that I'd intended the photo to be taken at the post office, but she insisted on the "scripted" shpeel of her first open-mouthed statement.
Somehow, fortunately, she sensed that I was the way I was and chilled the fuck out. She took my picture, we made some pleasant small talk and she processed my application. I think I was very quick to judge her and was overboard in my reactions but for some reason, the post office does this to me. It's a still extant symbol of the obsolete machinations of a government which has been removed from us.
I miss my America. And I don't know if it will ever be back.