I have to tell you about my social security experience Thursday. I watched the clock moving past 1 p.m., the designated time someone at Social Security was to begin my scheduled call. And nothing happened.
Waited another hour and then just decided to go to the Tulsa office.
Naturally I tried the highway (I really need to stay off of the highway) because I got lost and wasted time trying to locate the place. I just can’t figure out highways with all the wording crammed on the signs.
Can’t they just have more signs with less wording?
The Waiting Room:
So I get there and it is packed. I brought in my handbag, so they had to thoroughly search it. Then just like the airport, you have to go through the metal detector. They tell you as soon as you come in that they will search you for guns and bombs.
I found a place to sit. Naturally next to a couple with a tired crying toddler. It is just not a good place to bring young kids.
The woman behind me griped that she’d been there over four hours and this was her fourth visit. Said she hadn’t gotten her last two checks. A woman came in with a baby that I’m fairly sure wasn’t even a week old.
The Security Guard:
There was a security guard at the door. But I don’t know how effective he would be if a problem arose.
Then there was another one, probably in his forties or fifties. You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed wearing a uniform and being the boss.
After I’d been there about twenty minutes, he said on his hidden mike: “Homeland Security dictates that anyone who causes a problem or ruckus in the Social Security office will face a penalty and it will be enforced.”
People looked at one another, somewhat baffled. Then about fifteen minutes later he got on again. “Hey folks,” he bellowed about 6 feet from me. “The proper attire to wear to the Social Security office is pajamas and slippers.”
That was disconcerting. Immediately I wondered if perhaps he’d once been with the police department and retired due to a mental health issue. Something wasn’t quite right with him. He did not make me feel safe.
Forty-five Minutes Later:
I was extremely lucky. They called my number about forty-five minutes in. They have lots and lots of windows so you go walking down all these aisles searching for the right cubicle.
The lady was very nice. I asked her why I didn’t get a call and she followed up on that. She learned that they’d scheduled me to be called by the manager. And the manager doesn’t make calls.
Well great. I waited six weeks for a phone call that was never coming.
It was probably best that I went in and endured the noisy waiting room anyway. They copied my documents and I don’t have to mail them. I wanted the actual numbers before I decided to sign up for benefits.
Focusing More On Charlie Boy:
Charlie gets antsy about 3-4 p.m. and begins to walk across me. He can’t settle down and goes back and forth and this makes me cranky. I’m sure he is bored. I’ll spend more time with him.
There are podcasts I would like to listen to. Soon spring will be here and I will be out on the patio with my container gardens.
In other news, I had icicles inside my patio door yesterday! Surely I’ll get my new door soon.