Yesterday, I had to go to the Vital Records office at DHEC to get a copy of Clark’s birth certificate. I guess I had forgotten how many different types of people come into government offices (I used to work at the Assessor’s office- WOW!)
I walked in behind a lady who had no business wearing the pants she was wearing. I’m talking, you could see parts of her body that you shouldn’t have been able to see through a pair of pants. Now, I’m not trying to knock anyone’s style. Everyone is entitled to their own choices, but please don’t wear clothes that show places of your body that would have to be covered by little black boxes if you were shown on TV.
After I was assigned a number, I took a seat and got out the book I brought with me (Yes, even though the form online said to expect a 30-minute wait, I knew to expect longer than that). I guess I got there at a good time, because the too small waiting room quickly filled to capacity, which didn’t stop others from piling in, making me claustrophobic in the process. I glanced over at the lady sitting to my right, who was talking very loudly on her cell phone (while she was sitting underneath the “NO CELL PHONE” sign, mind you) and was covered in tattoos. Once again, I have NOTHING against tattoos, at all. But I don’t want to see your tattoos of inappropriate “things” if they are in inappropriate places. Once again, someone was showing places on their body that really should have been covered up.
As I sat there looking around the room, I was so thankful that I didn’t have Clark with me, and that I wasn’t having to explain to him that he should cover his eyes. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, in walks a little family of four. A mom, a dad, and I’m assuming the two boys with them were their sons. One of them was about Clark’s age, and you could tell he was ALL boy. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and was covered in dirt from head-to-toe. Literally. There was dirt underneath his toe nails. And how did I know that, oh yeah, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Now, there were lots of times when Clark was little that I wouldn’t put shoes on him, but that was when he would be in his carrier the whole time. This little boy was walking around barefoot. My germaphobic self just wanted to scream, “Seriously, you’re going to let your sweet little boy walk around barefoot in here, how unsafe is that?!? He could step on something, or contract some kind of disease!!!”
Luckily my number was called. I tucked my book back into my purse, and stood to move to the window I was assigned to. The people standing in the waiting room looked like a group of vultures waiting to fight for their prey (the prey being my empty chair). I seriously thought a fight was going to break out in that waiting room before I could even gather my belongings and move out of the way.
Once I got to the window, a cute little blond girl quickly made the copies I needed, and I was on my way. I was so glad to be out of that office! I don’t think I’ll attempt to take Clark anywhere like that with me anytime soon.
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