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Ahhh Bureaucracy. You expect when you go to the
Department of Motor Vehicles. You know it is coming when you have to
fill out paper work for insurance companies. But really, is it just TOO
MUCH when you get a I hate registration anyway. The rebel in my
chafes at every aspect of the procedure, beginning with the long lines
and ending at the fact that my summer is eaten up with these deals. When
I arrived, I was horrified to note that at the table marked #1, the line
snaked for what seemed like miles. I went to to table #2, where
there was no line, no waiting. "Yes?" The teacher behind the table
smiled up at me. "I am here to register my child for
school." I began. Her smile quickly faded. "You HAVE to go to
table #1 first." She informed me, quite sternly. "That." She stated, her smile now a
frown, "Is the check-in table. You need to check-in." She
emphasized the words "check-in", as if I had just landed from
Mars or maybe I didn't speak English well. "Well, how about I go over there,
LATER," I said, "when the line dies down, and I do whatever it
is that I am supposed to do here now." "I am afraid that is quite
impossible." She scowled. "You need to go to TABLE #1
FIRST." And so it began. I took my place like a sheep in
the endless line at table one, "checked in" (a process which
involved a football coach placing a check-mark beside my son's name on a
master list) and then was back at table #2, with absolutely nothing to
show for having wasted a good twenty minutes of my time. At table #2, I
had to show them a power bill to prove I actually lived in the district
(apparently non residents are trying to sneak in to our school system
and this dastardly attempt at bettering oneself in OUR district has to
be nipped straight in the bud), and then I moved to table #3 where I
received a folder with a big yellow sign on the front. "NEEDS COPY OF BIRTH CERTIFICATE AND SOCIAL
SECURITY CARD" It read. The 8 1/2" by 11" of paper
obliterated the folder entirely. It's flashing yellow color might as
well screamed: "INCOMPETENT MOTHER- PLEASE LOOK AT THIS POOR EXCUSE
OF A MOM!" At table #3, I was told, "You need to bring a copy
of your son's birth certificate and social security card in to us." "Didn't I give you one last year?" I
inquired. "Well, if you did," The bureaucrat
replied, "We no longer have it on file. Can you give it to me
now?" "I don't have it." "You DON'T HAVE IT?" She intoned. "Well, you know, I don't exactly carry
around my kids' birth certificates and social security cards." Now
I was getting huffy. Then I remembered. "I'll be back here tomorrow
to register my other son" (oh yes, they can't do all grades at once
so this is a daily event for me) "can I bring them then?" She sighed as if I had just asked her to be a
surrogate mother for me and to carry my child to post-term within her
uterus. "I GUESS SO." She huffed. "Bring it with you
tomorrow." When I got to table #4 I found out that I needed
a copy of my insurance to get my son a parking permit (heck no I didn't
have that either), so they hustled me, in disgust, to table 5 for a
locker (you have to PAY $25 for a stupid locker, can you believe that?)
and finally, on to table #6 for the final processing. "You need a copy of your son's social
security card and birth certificate." The woman behind the desk
said, as if I couldn't read the giant print on the front of the folder
for myself. "I was told I could bring that tomorrow
when I register my other son." I replied, pretty happy that this
whole ordeal was wrapping up; for the day, at least. "WHO TOLD YOU THAT?!!!!!!" The woman
was incensed; outraged; that was a definite breech in registration
protocol! "That lady over there." I said,
pointing out the woman in charge of table #3. "She should have NEVER told you that!"
(Table #6 was in an uproar over this UNSEEMLY turn of events.) "Ummm. Well, she did." I said.
"Is there anything else for today?" I was so out of there,
man, my feet were ready to hit that hallway. "I will be UNABLE to process your son's
forms until I have the proper documentation." She threatened. "Yeah, okay." I said. "Well, see
you tomorrow." Too much bureaucracy for me, I tell ya, but
tomorrow promised to be another day heapin' to the top with it.
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