Yesterday I took a pile of documents to the Social Security office on Lenora, I took a number and I waited my turn. In the past when I’ve been to that office I could get someone to sign for the package and run, run away. But this client needed the messenger to wait and have the documents processed. So I took a number and I waited and waited and waited.
After a very short time I learned that the first day of the month is a not a good time to hang out in a Social Security office. I learned that it is in fact the worst time. I learned there are also offices at 675 South Lane and 132nd & Aurora. I learned that working in a government office will slowly, consistently, steadily suck the life out of you, as will spending too much time waiting in line in one.
I read every single word of the NY Times Book Review. I stared at the wall. I looked at the little clock on my Nextel about 217 times. I looked at the red digital sign that said “Now Serving number 43” about a gazillion times. I was constantly looking up at the only TV in the office, which was playing a wildlife show with the sound turned all the way down. Which made me wonder if it really was a wildlife show, or some subliminal images designed to subdue the herd. The bewildered herd waiting for their government checks, changing their names, applying for new cards, proving their disabilities or proud new citizens.
Near the entrance there’s a big American flag like you had in your grade school classroom. On the wall there are large portraits of George Bush and Dick Cheney, who is smirking a truly evil smirk. I looked at those jokers and thought how far away they are from these people, from the bewildered herd. I thought how much I don’t like paying into Social Security. I thought about having a cash-under-the-table job and living in a small cabin near a river.
When they finally called me and my “number 61” I went up to the clerk behind window 3 and handed her my documents., explaining that all I needed was a stamp on each of the return copies so I could take them back. After a few minutes of her shuffling the papers, I once again said, “ I just need stamps on those” She continued her processing process. A few minutes later I said, “I’m a bike messenger, I just need those copies to go back to the attorney” Attempting to walk the fine line between urging her on and pissing her off. She looked up and said.
“don’t you get paid by the minute? I need to enter each of these, in case they get lost. ” then I said.
“OK, well next time I come here is there someplace I can just drop them off?” and she said
“NO. there is no fast way to do this”
Finally I tried to stop squirming in the chair and pay attention to my breathing. As I witnessed the life being sucked from the clerk, I tried to hold on to my own.
I overheard a couple guys waiting. One of them said, “can you believe this is a downtown Social Security office? If we were in Queens there’d be 400 fucking people in here and 100 screaming kids, this is like a library in here…”
That made me smile as it put Seattle in perspective once again.
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