Thank you Social Security

This morning, after months of putting it off, I got up my courage and drove to the social security office to apply for a new card for me (my wallet was stolen three years ago in Denver... I know, I know, they say never to carry your SS card in your wallet, well now I won't) and an original for Van.

He never got his because the hospital filled his birth certificate full of all sort of crazy untrue things including NO GIVEN NAME. Not sure what they did with all the paperwork I filled out, but... I digress.

I knew I couldn't put it off forever, but when I went in Denver to add Risser to my SS card it took four hours. I just couldn't imagine what Van would do for four hours in an office full of people, on a floor covered in who knows what, in a room where technically you're not supposed to eat or drink.

So after almost going in Brooklyn, and almost going in Salt Lake, and almost going in LA, I went in Sacramento. And can I just say? I love Sacramento! I don't know if living in the capitol city just has its organizational perks or if it took a brilliant westerner to think to create a separate office that just deals with SS card applications.

I arrived ten minutes before the office opened and was the FIRST ONE THERE! What!? When I asked one of the workers getting out of his car if this was the right entrance for replacement SS cards he looked at me quizzically and said, "yes, but we don't open until 9:30" and walked inside. Confused at his confusion, I looked at my phone and saw it was 9:21.

At 9:30 on the dot, the doors opened and after a brief lecture about not taking weapons "including tools of trade" inside. I and a band of five or ten others were greeted by 14 windows open and ready for business staffed by friendly, efficient employees.

In less than 20 minutes, the dreaded chore was done and Van and I celebrated our newly documented americanness with some yummy breakfast sandwiches and a trip to IKEA.