And it was a most very really long line.
___________________________________________________________________________
There was a nice looking man in front of me and a beautiful
black woman in front of him. She had a super short haircut, the kind that I
wish I could have, except that I would look bald and stupid in it.
A young man with a Bank of America name tag came wandering
through the line looking at the various forms that were arranged neatly in
their bins. He didn’t find what he was looking for so he made another turn around
the counter looking again.
“Excuse me. You look like someone who would know the answer
to this.” Me? Surely you aren’t talking to me. I’m the woman in her sweaty
gardening clothes and really ugly black and green Croc flip-flops. I’m the
woman with dirt under her fingernails and scrap booking paper scraps stuck with
glue to her uncombed hair. Me?
We all took a step forward.
“I’ll try.”
“Do you know if the post office gives out the forms I need
to get a passport?”
You’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me! “Geez, I don’t know. I
just went online and printed them out the last time I needed a passport
application.”
“Oh. Well, I think I’ll just cut up in line and ask the
question.”
“Good luck!”
We all took a step forward.
In case you’re in need of a passport application in my
little town, you have to either go to the courthouse or the post office in
Christmas (yes, it’s a real town…a real small town) about 20 miles west of
here.
That would have been my second guess.
Standing in front of Beautiful Black Woman was an older
gentleman with mismatched blue bobby socks. They were both blue. Just not the
same shade of blue.
“One must have gotten into the bleach load,” I thought.
In front of Mismatched Blue Bobby Sock Man was another
gentleman. I noticed that he had lips like my father’s. Hapsburg lips, my
father calls them.
We all took a step forward.
Up until this point, there had been three Postal workers
working the line; one closed his station.
“Hhmphh. They should take the word Service out of this organization’s
name.” said a man behind me.
Now bored, having read all the notices about not sending
flammable materials in the mail, what size boxes you could ship up to 70 pounds
in to any state in the contiguous United States for a flat rate, how to get postage
stamps with your own picture on them and a very cheery “Don’t forget your
package box key!” sign (what the hell did that mean?), my attention went back
to Mismatched Blue Bobby Sock Man and The Lips. The Lips was talking to
Mismatched Blue Bobby Sock Man.
We all took a step forward
“…priority when they say priority and it seems impossible
they find a way to make it happen I take care of my sainted 94 year old mother
do you remember Marie from Everybody Loves Raymond well that’s my mother
exactly shouldering the cross and all I get all her medications from Canada
people say I’m breaking the law but when a small bottle of eye drops costs $200
here and only $70 there then I’m going to get them there she saves over $1000 a
month because her prescriptions come from Canada it really helps my mother and
my aunt sure I had to go to Canada to set it up but I have friends who live
there and they let me stay with them while I set up bank accounts and did other
business when people get mad at me for doing this I tell them that its because
the pharmaceutical companies have to answer to the stock holders it’s all about
making a PROFIT we’re the only…”
We all took a step forward.
“…country in the world where the insurance companies hope we
get sick because they also answer to the stockholders and want to make a PROFIT
this doesn’t happen in any other country other countries like China and Bolivia
they wouldn’t allow these town hall meetings that create fear in the people and
they don’t allow health insurance companies to be PROFIT making everyone wants
to make a PROFIT I lost 55,000 friends during Vietnam and it didn’t matter what
color you wore on the outside because we all bled red in the end why were we in
Vietnam PROFIT I support the VFW and am very involved there this country has
done nothing for the vets when my father-god-rest-his-soul died he left some
money for my sainted mother I had to bring down all my brothers and sisters so
we could convince her that we hadn’t taken any of that money it was Uncle Sam who
took the money because it’s all about PROFIT I moved here thirty years ago I was in the Seabees and had
experience with cryogenics so I went to work with Harris Corporation on the
space program…”
We all took a step forward.
“…we put a man
on the moon with less computer power than you have in your own home because we
had a government that was behind the space program and everything was run cost
plus now we have to disassemble one shuttle to get another ready to fly you
know why that is PROFIT everyone’s looking to make a PROFIT I’m 68 years old
and when I had to have my heart transplant up at Shand’s in Gainesville they
wanted $30,000 before they would even begin harvesting a heart for me that’s
because it’s all about the PROFIT the ambulance took me from here all the way
up to Shand’s and my wife rode shotgun all the way up there and stayed by my
side the …”
We all took a step forward, but this time Beautiful Black
Woman looks around, clearly very pissed off.
“…whole time they have a place there where families can stay
while a patient is in the hospital I have a picture of myself standing in the
Indian River with the water up to my chest. I was holding my daughter and the
water was so clear that you can see my feet in the picture that was 30 years ago
I wouldn’t go in that river now the fishing was great and shrimping all night
was great too being first generation Italian I grew up in Little Italy outside
of Newark New Jersey and everyone I knew was Italian I didn’t meet anyone who
wasn’t Italian until I went to school it was great growing up in the 50’s
things were safe then I just had to be home before the echo of my
father-god-rest-his-soul’s whistle died out if I didn’t I was really in big
trouble I remember being somewhere with my grandfather and he said that you
were either born rich or good looking and we must have been born good looking
because we sure weren’t rich those were some really great days by the way my
name’s Michael.”
“Good to meet you, Michael. I’m Ray.”
“Ray my brother’s name is Ray but we all call him Raymond my
sainted mother insists that we all call each other by their full name and…”
“Michael. It’s your turn at the counter.”
“Hey. It’s been good talking to you Ray.”
We all took a step forward in the sweet sweet silence.
