Oh yeah... I knew something bad was coming...
I've been in a weird mood all day to begin with, right?
(Right. See earlier post... *rolls eyes*)
Hasta be, because later on, I found myself getting misty eyed over frickin' Little House on the Prairie, of all stupid things. Then, when I went to get Eric's check (and mine from his Boss, thank GOD for teeny tiny favors), I felt sick.
Not "puking" sick, just that feeling of nausea, deep down in the pit of my gut, telling me that something shitty was in the works. I go to the bank, cash my check (for all of $35.00) and find out that they've changed the way they do things, hence there may be a problem getting Eric's cashed. See, he has no ID, basically.
I mean, he does have a photo ID, it's just that it's from Jersey, it's his DL and it expired over a year ago.
Still... they've let him use it every. single. time. so far... til tonight.
Assnuggets. So, I come home and find his Boss to give him a "heads up" about the whole deal.
I know he cares enough about and likes Eric way more'n enough to not let him go without his money... his Boss is a really, really good man, like I've said two thousand times before. So, we go to see if we can get Eric's check cashed and... nope.
Not without a valid ID. Well, shit people.
If his having a valid ID was that easy, HE'D ALREADY HAVE IT, fer fuck's sake. The reason he doesn't currently have one can be traced directly back to that cuntbag in Jersey that he didn't leave soon enough.
(The second after he met her woulda been the time to run for the hills, by the way...) He had a valid license, at first.
Then, when we moved to Bucks, that boss thought the amount he pays for support (child and spousal combined) was stupid (he's right about that), SO he didn't deduct enough for the first year or so and Eric got behind.
So far behind that they suspended his Jersey DL. Well...
That was fun.
Not. We got that shit taken care of, caught up and all almost a year ago, clearing the suspension, but... we live in Pa. now, so he doesn't need a Jersey DL and besides, Pa. requires a birth certificate (among other things) to get a DL here, which, thanks to the cunt, we don't have.
She didn't give him SHIT when he left.
NONE of his stuff.
No clothes, no paperwork, no nuttin. Anyway...
We got the "support" shit straight.
Got a letter from the case worker guy that he's eligible to have his license again. HOWEVER... before he can even begin to jump through Pa.'s hoops, he has to pay the restoration fee to Jersey for them to clear it up in the computer system.
(I think...)
PLUS, he has to do all this retarded shit in order to get a certified copy of his birth certificate for Pa. anyway...
This entails having forms printed offa the computer (I don't have a printer), getting a notorized letter saying he is who he says he is (and how da FUCK do ya do that without the ID you're trying to get by doing alla this in the first fuckin' place?), getting the money together and sending it all to Orange County California, where he was born. So... it hasn't been done.
Besides, he's been okay with the old Jersey license for ID.... til now. Well...
We leave the bank.
I radio the Boss and tell him what's up.
He says he'll take care of it tomorrow, if that's okay (which it certainly is. I know they have a banquet to go to tonight. In fact, that's where he and Eric are now, as I type). We come home and I get online to look all this shit up again to see what we need to do.
We need a notory.
Shit.
No ID and nobody out here knows us...
Hmmmm.... Look in the Yellow pages and find a place right down the road called "Rick's Auto" and call them (because they have the same name as what everybody "back home" in Idaho calls Eric. I'm weird like that... ) Anyway... it worked!
I got some chick on the phone, me almost in tears, tell her the whole story in less than 15 minutes and she says to come on over whenever we can, just call her so she knows we're coming, and she'll do it. She'll notorize the "I am who I am" letter for us. I then go to MY bank, the one I WAS using to cash my checks from the horse farm. I love that bank.
I talked to one of the girls, again, gave her the abbreviated version of "the whole story" and she tells me... "This can be done." I can open an accout in MY name and deposit his checks.
Money won't be available until a day later (unless we have the amount of his check in the account already... standard bank crap, I know), but... it's a fix for now. So...
What coulda sucked worse than anything has ever sucked before ain't gonna be that bad. Now, I am skipping one step here... one thing I did. When I was driving home from the "bad" bank the first time, even before I got with the Boss, I called George.
I needed to talk to somebody and Eric's radio had died, so I called George and told him what was going on.
He helps us all the time with shit anyway and, basically, what he said this time was he's not going anywhere, so relax, we'll figure something out.
(Which, if ya know George, means "I'll help ya with money. Stop freaking out...") So again... what coulda been absolute crap, is gonna be okay. First of all, George'll help.
Second, the Boss'll get Eric his pay tomorrow.
Third, I can have a bank account to keep Eric's pay freed up.
Fourth, his Boss now knows what's going on with the whole deal and I'm sure if there's anything he can do to help, he will.
Fifth, we now have a Boss man in our lives that I can say that about.
Sixth, by the time alla this shit is over with, Eric'll have his license back finally and be legal and have ID and that cunt in Jersey can go fuck herself. What a fustercluck this is gonna be, in some respects, though...
*giggling and scratching head vigorously* I have to get the Boss's wife to print some shit offa the computer for California.
Then, get the "I'm me" letter notorized.
Then, get the money for it.
Then, send it off.
While we wait for it to come back, I need to contact Jersey to see if they do require the restoration fee, even though he's not gonna be getting a Jersey license.
If they do, shit that money and send it... or better still... TAKE IT THERE IN PERSON, just to expedite things. Meanwhile, I need to go get another mugshot my own self.
I don't WANT another disgusting photo DL again, but, thanks to a buncha towelheads slamming airplanes into the WTC, this is what ya hafta do. Hell, alla this shit is because of that shit.
The stupid woman at the bad bank even said that... "Terrorism and all... can't have that. Must have ID..." 'Scuse me, but... IT"S BEEN SIX FUCKIN' YEARS, ASSWIPES!!!!! Don'tcha think y'all are nailing the barn door shut after the horse has been stolen, made into dog food and is already a white clump of shit in the fuckin' YARD???? Jesus GAWD. I feel three ways at once about alla this... 1.) What a bunch of horseshit. I now hate towelheads, dotheads, sandnigga's, camel jockeys or whatever the fuck they are, as well as my usual "if yer Vietnamese, fuck you" thing from 30 years ago. 2.) I kinda wish the opportunity to have this shit done anytime in the last 5 years had made itself known.
(I feel like shit for letting it go this long, but fuckall... what am I? A magic fairy who can make cash and time abundant, while minimizing beaurocratic bullshit? NO. *siiigh*) 3.) At least when it's all said and done, he'll be in good shape. He'll be able to drive again, legally, which I know he wants... badly. And, I also feel a fourth way... I have a headache. AND, I hafta go get the horses in because it's supposed to rain and it's damned near dark, but I couldn't go do that with alla this shit in my head.
I HAD to get it out first.
Hell, I've been needing to get it out since the first time I left the bad bank... "Bad bank.... baaaad bank" *slap, punch, kick* The good news is, while I haven't shortened my story-telling any, I am typing almost faster than my brain can think.
With two fingers. So, if there are any typos....
*clicks "preview"* Found two and fixed 'em.
If there are anymore, forgive me.
Considering the fact that when I sat down here all I wanted to doat first was slam my head on the keyboard repeatedly, I think I did good. Now... off to bring the horses in.
By myself.
What fun. Back later. Peace
(da FUCK it that? "peace" whatta concept... pft.) UPDATE 12 seconds later... Oh good.
NOW IT'S RAINING.
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