Taking a Number

The summer adventures have begun. It started by sitting in the government office for 1 1/2 hours with my #2 son waiting for someone to help him get his Social Insurance Number. He had to have it in order to work at camp. What fun! What adventures! What a colossal exercise of patience.

We were fooled into thinking that it wouldn't be that long a wait by getting into line behind one other man. What we didn't see was the waiting room on the other side which was already filled by other people who had arrived when the office opened. We did get our share of entertainment, but it cut short the rest of the day's activities.
While we were there, because of the close proximity of all who were in the office, we heard many stories we hadn't actually come to hear. The brother who had died and was sure to have a will but 'that woman' wouldn't let the other brother near it. The man who wouldn't give out his information to a cold call from a government worker who wanted to know his mother's maiden name. [In this age of information theft, one can't be too sure. So he came to join us in the queue for service in order to unravel his case in person.] The farm workers who were injured and needed medical leave [no, they hadn't been able to look for work because of the nature of their injury]. The lady on maternity leave. The passport pictures which had to be retaken 'because I can see your teeth.' (Inwardly I was thinking: "I have a Sharpie. If I give it to you, to black out your teeth on the picture, can we have our forms filled out next?")

There's nothing private about the government office. They make a show of it with their booths and chairs in front of their desks where their computers are, but they might as well have microphones to announce all the details because it is definitely not sound-proof. And there's nothing to do but sit and people watch [and listen] while you are there. There wasn't even any music to cover up the noise of waiting room impatience. The only sound was the occasional cell phone ring tone. People are silent, but you can tell they are inwardly tapping their toes, gauging how much time will be lost to them in that day. They are playing a game of cat and mouse with the clock. Stay, and the wait could be interminable. Leave, and another day will be lost in waiting.

It doesn't' help that the office has nine booths and only #3 and # 8 are being used for business. If there's only going to be two people working, wouldn't it make sense to cut the number of booths with computers and phones (and kleenex boxes - I guess some of this stuff is highly emotional) to a number which will not raise the hopes of the poor suckers sitting in those uncomfortable black chairs? [I personally had to hold myself back from hopping over the counter of #4 and filling in the form myself. I know how to use a computer. Let me at it!]

My son and I amused ourselves by observing the number of breaks taken. It seemed to us that after one or two people been served, the government employee needed to suddenly take a break. Coffee break. Bathroom break. Lunch break. Stress break.

At one point, I slipped out to re-park the van [ there were signs all over NOT TO PARK ACROSS THE STREET - YOU WILL BE TOWED] and then I stopped at the local pharmacy to buy overpriced drinks for us to sip while we waited. If an ice cream truck had driven by, I think all of us in the waiting room would have gone out to get some.

When we finally got up to booth #3, it took just about ten minutes for us to get the documentation. Then it was off for more hurry- up- and -wait at the police station to get a Criminal Record Check. [ You can never be too sure about my son's involvement in the underworld.] All in a day's work. After just three hours, we got his approval for being on the work crew. Now he's off to camp for work experience. I hope he'll get lots of breaks.