Reaping
So today was The Big Day to visit the Social Security office in Wilkesboro for an interview to begin recovery of all those Social Security deductions from my paycheck over the past 45 years.
I arrived at the facility, a box of a building sitting on a hill, 20 minutes early and was greeted by a "Keep Off The Grass" sign. Entry was through an electronically controlled double door overlooked by a uniformed guard preoccupied with reading a paperback book. Dubya started down at me from a picture on the wall. There was no caption indicating who he might be and I thought of scribbling "Father of the Bride" or perhaps even "Chairman Mao" on it. But this was a Federal facility and the picture was government property and I left a mental inscription instead.
"Go to the computer station and follow the instructions," sez the security guard who's reading I have interrupted.
I did and received a paper receipt like you get at a gas pump indicating that my name would be called. Promptly at 1:00 my name was called and I was told to go through the West Door to Station #2. Kinda reminded me of on of those stations in a prison where the incarcerated and their lawyer talk except there was no glass window with a hole in it between us.
The interviewer was a very nice lady with a very nice personality. One would hardly guess that she was a government employee in the public service.
She asked for my appointment notice, birth certificate and blank check, just like the appointment notice indicated she would. Then she asked me a series of questions, the most interesting being whether I was currently under indictment on a felony charge! I assured her as best I could that I wasn't.
Upon completion of the questions, I was asked to affirm that my answers were truthful and, upon affirmation that they were, I was told the date and amount of the first automatic deposit to my account.
That was it. No signature. No ID check. No nothing.
I asked the nice lady for a telephone book to obtain the address of the scrap metal yard in Wilkesboro and she even called them to get directions for me.
I thanked her and, retracing my route through the West Door to the lobby, past the reading guard and through the electronically controlled double door, left, being careful not to step off the walkway onto the grass.
I arrived at the facility, a box of a building sitting on a hill, 20 minutes early and was greeted by a "Keep Off The Grass" sign. Entry was through an electronically controlled double door overlooked by a uniformed guard preoccupied with reading a paperback book. Dubya started down at me from a picture on the wall. There was no caption indicating who he might be and I thought of scribbling "Father of the Bride" or perhaps even "Chairman Mao" on it. But this was a Federal facility and the picture was government property and I left a mental inscription instead.
"Go to the computer station and follow the instructions," sez the security guard who's reading I have interrupted.
I did and received a paper receipt like you get at a gas pump indicating that my name would be called. Promptly at 1:00 my name was called and I was told to go through the West Door to Station #2. Kinda reminded me of on of those stations in a prison where the incarcerated and their lawyer talk except there was no glass window with a hole in it between us.
The interviewer was a very nice lady with a very nice personality. One would hardly guess that she was a government employee in the public service.
She asked for my appointment notice, birth certificate and blank check, just like the appointment notice indicated she would. Then she asked me a series of questions, the most interesting being whether I was currently under indictment on a felony charge! I assured her as best I could that I wasn't.
Upon completion of the questions, I was asked to affirm that my answers were truthful and, upon affirmation that they were, I was told the date and amount of the first automatic deposit to my account.
That was it. No signature. No ID check. No nothing.
I asked the nice lady for a telephone book to obtain the address of the scrap metal yard in Wilkesboro and she even called them to get directions for me.
I thanked her and, retracing my route through the West Door to the lobby, past the reading guard and through the electronically controlled double door, left, being careful not to step off the walkway onto the grass.
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