Some years ago, I moved from New Jersey to Mississippi. I needed to get a Mississippi driver’s license. In the move, however, my birth certificate had been lost. I went online to order a new one from New York, the state in which I was born. I provided my New Jersey license as proof of who I was.

Cue the maddening runaround. Most of this took place by email. I was told that they could only mail the birth certificate to the address on my license. In New Jersey. I wrote back, explaining the predicament, and kept getting a copy-and-paste reply with the requirements. I was told to get a Mississippi license so the certificate could be mailed there. This would be the Mississippi license that I could not get without the birth certificate.

I emailed again. I got another copy-and-pasted reply that told me I would then have to submit two of the following: a land-based utility bill or a letter from a government agency that showed my Mississippi address. I wrote again, telling them that I was living on family property and had no utilities in my name. And I had no letters from a government agency. The reply I received suggested that I get a Mississippi license so the certificate could be mailed there.

I tried for days to get someone on the phone. When I finally spoke to someone and explained the situation, I was told I had to come to their office in person. When I mentioned the fact that I was about 1300 miles away, they had nothing further to offer.

I kept trying the email routine every few months over the next two years. Things only became more urgent when it was coming within six months of my New Jersey license’s expiration date. Then, luck and a little ingenuity came to my side. I knew that if I went to Social Security and said that I lost my card, they would order a new one and provide me with a letter that said a replacement would be forthcoming. That was my first government letter.

As luck would have it, my boss was friends with [Mayor], a man who had recently been elected mayor in [Town], a nearby town. I went to [Boss], explained the situation, and asked if [Mayor] could help. Of course, he did! Within an hour, I was the recipient of one lovely letter from [Mayor] on [Town] letterhead, thanking me for my support. My second government letter!

I was able to get my birth certificate within a few days.

I’m helping people fill out applications and double-check their documents before they take a number. An applicant steps up.

Applicant: “I need a new passport, but I do not want my weight listed. That’s private information.”

Me: “That’s good news then; passports don’t include weight.”

Applicant: “Oh. Okay, well… I also don’t want my height on there either.”

Me: “That’s not printed on the passport, but it’s still required for the form.”

Applicant: “Fine, I’ll just put 5’8″.”

I look this applicant up and down. They’re pushing 5’2″ at most.

Applicant: “What?! People make up s*** all the time! Everyone’s identifying as made-up genders and stuff!”

Me: “Well, that’s something different from height.”

Applicant: “What if I don’t identify with being 5’2”? Can’t you just put 5’8”?”

Me: “I’m afraid we have to go with your legal height.”

Applicant: “This is ridiculous. All of them f****** trans people curate their own profiles! Why can’t I?!”

Me: “This isn’t Tinder, it’s border control.”

She fussed a little bit longer but finally accepted that we couldn’t ’round up’ her height like it was a total at a grocery store.

I am trying to get Disability currently, as I’m epileptic and can’t work. I decided to go online to apply on the Social Security Administration website. I went through h*** trying to make a SSA account so that I can check the application status and appeal when necessary. The website said that making the account was quick and easy. They lied.

My phone is prepaid, and my second is a VoIP, neither of which can be used to verify my identity. Since I can’t verify my identity, I can’t access my account. Since I can’t access my account, I can’t check my application. So, I called my local SSA office and asked for an appointment to verify my identity in person, as stated on the website. I was told that they could definitely help with that, that I didn’t need an appointment, and to just walk in. I went in the next day with my grandfather.

It was horrible, solely due to the receptionist.

Receptionist #1: *Over intercom.* “[Unintelligible] A-thirty-two [unintelligible] four.”

Grandfather: “Window four.”

We get to window four, but no one is there.

Receptionist #1: *Over intercom.* “[Unintelligible] A-thirty-two [unintelligible] four.”

Me: “Oh, twenty-four, not four.”

[Receptionist #1] starts calling the next person, but stops when she sees me and my grandfather.

Receptionist #1: *Very rude.* “I called you three times.”

Me: *Annoyed, but I stay polite and apologize.* “I’m sorry, we thought you said four, not twenty-four.”

Receptionist #1: *Ignoring my apologies.* “Give me your ticket. What can I do for you today?

Me: *Gives ticket and stays polite.* “Yes, I need to verify my identity for my account, and check my application status, or appeal, since I believe I’ve already been denied by now. My phone is a prepaid phone, and my other number is a VoIP number, so I can’t verify my identity using either. I was told that I can verify my identity face-to-face?”

Receptionist #1: *Still rude.* “Who told you that?”

Me: *Thinking.* “Your website and the woman I talked to on the phone yesterday.”

Me: *Out loud.* “That’s what I was told. I can’t sign into my account without verifying my identity, and I can’t verify my identity without a phone number that’s attached to my identity. I just need to verify my identity, and I also wanted to ask about my application status and changing my address on it.”

I learned later that you can’t once it’s been sent.

Receptionist #1: *Ignores last two.* “Can I see your valid ID and what’s your social security number?”

I slide both cards through the slot.

Receptionist #1: *Looks at ID.* “Is your address on this correct?”

Me: “No, it’s—”

Receptionist #1: *Interrupts me.* “—then what is it?!”

Grandfather: “The address is [Address].”

Receptionist #2: *Walks over as [Receptionist #1] is typing.* “Hey, am I supposed to be dealing with A33? You called them already.”

Receptionist #1: “You can take them. I called A33 when I called them—” *Jerks head to myself and my grandfather.* “—three times, and they only showed up after I called the next one.”

[Receptionist #2] walks away. [Receptionist #1] types for a minute.

Receptionist #1: “You don’t have an account.”

Me: *Confused.* “I do. At first, I didn’t know if it went through, because my computer died in the middle of making it, but I tried to create one again, and it said there already was an account attached to my social.”

Receptionist #1: “Well, it says you tried to sign in yesterday at [time].”

Me: *Thinking.* “So, do I not have an account, or did I try to access my account?”

Receptionist #1: *Huffy.* “What’s your social?”

Me: *Trying not to bang my head on the desk.* “You still have my Social Security card.”

[Receptionist #1] calls over the manager. There is inaudible muttering, and she looks directly at me, but addressing the manager in that whisper tone that’s really not a whisper.

Receptionist #1: “I called them three times.”

More whispering. The manager finds my account in moments.

Receptionist #1: *To me, still in a rude voice.* “It says you never finished making the account.”

I am exasperated, because she’s not listening to a single word I’ve said, and is continuing to treat me like I’m five instead of twenty-four.

Me: “Yes, because my numbers are prepaid and VoIP, and I can’t verify my identity. So, I can’t finish the account or log in. That’s why I’m here.”

Receptionist #1: *Mutters under breath, then speaks up.* “I can give you a one-time code to verify your identity online. Do you want it by email or print?”

Me: *Done with this and wishing it was over.* “Either is fine.”

Receptionist #1: *Snaps.* “Do you want it by email or print?”

Me: *Just wanting to go home at this point.* “Print.”

[Receptionist #1] hands me a page with instructions and a code and talks to me like I’m a child.

Receptionist #1: “Just follow the introductions on the paper, okay? Anything else?”

I have a few more questions, but I’m thinking it’s not worth my blood pressure.

Me: “No, that’s all.”

Receptionist #1: *Rudely.* “Then you can go. Have a good day.” *Turns and completely ignores me.*

Quite possibly one of the rudest people I’ve met. I didn’t get half the information I went to ask for, but at least the one-time activation code worked, and I finally finished the account, so, yay?

Related:
Very Bad Reception, Part 23
Very Bad Reception, Part 22
Very Bad Reception, Part 21
Very Bad Reception, Part 20
Very Bad Reception, Part 19

My mom takes me to get my first state ID at the DMV. We get to the part where I am confirming my identity. I was born in the UK but grew up in the USA since I was a few months old, so this is a little more complicated than usual:

DMV Teller: *Looking at my mom.* “And who are you?”

Mom: “Her Mum.”

DMV Teller: “Were you there when she was born?”

Mom: “Nope, I took an early lunch that day.”

I jabbed my mom in the side to tell her to calm her British sarcasm, and she forced herself to play nice so I could get my ID.

Related:
Ask A Stupid Question…, Part 9
Ask A Stupid Question…, Part 8
Ask A Stupid Question…, Part 7
Ask A Stupid Question…, Part 6
Ask A Stupid Question…, Part 5

I am at a public informational meeting for a rural US highway project. The construction requires strips of land from some farm fields, and the farmers aren’t happy about it.

Farmer #1: “This is going to negatively affect production!”

Farmer #2: “The amount of food we’re going to be able to get is going to go down too much for us to handle!”

An attendee in the audience puts their hand up to ask a question.

Attendee: “Why don’t the farmers get their food from the grocery store like everyone else?”

You could have heard a pin drop with the stunned silence.

 Related:
And These People Vote…