Yesterday went much better than I expected. Regarding anonymous poetry guy, that is. At first I didn't know what to do because he walked into class around 12:03 looking like he could burst into tears at any moment. He seldom looked at me, but when he did, the look said, "how dare you look at me you treacherous treasonous..." well, you can fill in the noun for yourself. Anyway, I felt horrible. And then of all days, Derek decided to hand out stuffed animals again. He gave me the "rotten crotch" bunny. So named (by Derek) because of the green crotch. News flash, Derek... the entire bunny is green. So I stuffed RC bunny into my bag and proceeded with class, not saying much. At times, the class got very funny and I just had to laugh loudly (stress reliever) and when class was over, I told this guy he wrote a nice poem. Then he followed me outside. I said I had to get lunch and go to work, but if he wanted, he could come to the union with me. And of course, he did. I think he had a pretty good time. Then he walked with me out to my car. And then I went to work...
Part II: My experience at the courthouse
So apparently the C-town courthouse has more security than many maximum security prisons? I couldn't enter via the 7th Street entrance (though I parked on 7th Street for that very purpose) but instead had to go in the Jackson Avenue entrance. Well, whatever. Might as well have gone to the JAC while I was there, but honestly, I forgot. Walked up the steps and into the building. Noting various signs warning me that I'd probably have to pass through a metal detector. What kind of a courthouse is this?
So I started to go on the right side of the hallway (out of sheer habit... as a child, we had white tape down the center of school hallways and were constantly instructed to "walk on the right side, just like when you will drive someday") and a cop says, "Ma'am, please walk around on the other side" (note to all: I hate being called ma'am. I always have. I even wrote a humor paper in 4th or 5th grade about hating to be called ma'am. This is a very serious thing. I don't house prostitutes, thank you very much.) So I went Brit on the left side. Up to the conveyor belt.
"So what all do I have to put on this thing anyway?"
"Your purse and the binder and that notebook."
You gotta be kidding
"Um, and your jacket too. We need to check that."
"Well, I've never been here before. I don't know how you do things up here."
"Okay here ya go... wait... do you have a cell phone?"
What's it to ya?
"Yeah in my purse. Why?"
"I'm gonna need to keep that, thank you."
Great. Now I can't call Dave if I run into a question in the treasurer's office
"Here. Keep this card and when you're ready to go, give it back to us and we'll give you your cell phone back."
I thought a cop was going to have to escort me over to the treasurer's office. But luckily, they left me alone. I opened the door. On the second attempt (it is very embarrassing to push a door that you have to pull when there are at least 3 cops staring at you like you're some kind of questionable character) only to be greeted by a lovely lady (probably the treasurer):
"Can I help you?"
"Um, yeah... do you guy have a, uh, public record computer that I can like, look up stuff on?"
"What do you want it for?"
"To look up addresses?"
"Who are you with?"
What is this, some sort of secret society?
I told her, and apparently the password worked, because she led me to a computer, telling me all the while that she doubted I'd be able to find what I was looking for and that I'd probably have to go to the assessor's office. I was thinking, they need addresses to send tax bills to, so why wouldn't the treasurer's office have addresses?. Anyway, I found most of them, but on my last page, I managed to hit a wrong key on the computer keyboard (this was my fault. I was proud of my magnificent typing abilities and imagining how much the other workers envied my fast typing skills and pictured Head Treasurer Lady walking by and instantly offering me a job because I could work so much more efficiently than that lady who had been there for 20 years.) Yeah. Pride certainly cometh before a fall. I tried in vain to find the window that I had been working in. I had three opened up, and none were the correct one. Worse yet, when I tried to close them, I got dialogue boxes saying that the program was running. So, figuring I'd probably never have to show my face in that courthouse again, (unless of course I had to defend myself in that court for closing down 3 windows in the treasurer's office) I just closed all of them anyway, thanked the lady and left. And I did get my cell phone back, thank goodness. Then I forgot to put gas in my car. And I just had to go to the gas station at Wal-Mart. Yes, I turned around at a Casey's station (and had to carefully navigate between a car in front of my backing up and a very poorly placed curb that served absolutely no purpose but to try to cause me to wreck, simply so I could go to another gas station). Don't ask why I didn't just stop at Casey's. Don't.
16 hours ago