Anyone Find A Soul? I Seem To Have Misplaced Mine.

I told you I'd do better about updating my blog this week, and I'm trying to do better.

Really, I am.

So this week started out interesting with a call I received from this lady, who was trying to pay her utility bill.  "I called the other day, and you told me that if it was being taken out of my account through my bank, the new billing system wouldn't affect me."

"Well, I'm not sure who you spoke with, but it's true.  If your bank was taking the money out of your account to cut a check to us, the new billing system - "

"Well, it's not working!"

"Then it was probably set up through our old billing system.  I can help you set it up so that it will start billing through the new system - "

"But you guys lied to me!  You told me it wouldn't affect me!"

"Ma'am, I'm not sure who told you that, but I'm sure they didn't mean to lie to you.  If you'd like me to set up a new account for it to just take it out of your account automatically, I'd be happy to help you set that up."

"But then how much do I have to pay them?  I thought the billing was through you?"

"It is through us, we just have the system process the payments for us - "

"But then I have to pay them, and I don't want to pay them too.  What do I pay you guys for, then?"

"Your bill is for water, sewage, garbage and recycle, and storm drain."

"So why am I paying them?"

"You're not paying them.  They are just processing the payments."

"But you told me it wouldn't affect me."

TWENTY MINUTES OF THIS, AND I'M LIKE:

Lord, give me patience.

So after I finally got through to her and helped her set up her new automatic bill pay system (which she didn't have to pay for), I got a phone call from a very angry woman.

"South Ogden."

"Hello, this is Mrs. Andy Griffith* (Names changed to protect individuals...namely me, and my job)."

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"I called a week ago, and told you guys that my garbage can was broken.  Why hasn't someone come and fixed it?  I don't know how YOU PEOPLE like to live, but I don't like having my garbage can out in front of my house.  It looks tacky."

MY PEOPLE?  Well, when I go home to my house at the end of the day, I like to line up all my garbage cans so I can get that "Junkyard Home" look that's so chic and sought after.

Ah.  Home sweet home.  Only thing missing are some garbage cans lined up out front.

"Well, I see that it was put in, I can put another request in for you if you'd like, and put that it's a second request and ask that it be treated as an ASAP matter."

"Yes, I want you to do that."  So after I assured her that I had put a second request in and put it as a high priority, and she assured me that I was ridiculous, and the city was ridiculous, and AGAIN, that she doesn't like the look of a garbage can out front, she hung up.

She called back again TODAY (two days after I talked to her last).  

"South Ogden."

"Hello, this is Mrs. Andy Griffith.

She again insulted "my people" (who apparently all love having garbage cans out in front of their homes??), and asked why nobody had come by to fix it.  "IT'S BEEN TEN DAYS SINCE I'VE REQUESTED THIS FIXED!!"  (But two since you talked to me...so...)  

"I did put it in a couple of days ago, it usually takes them 3-5 days to come by and fix it."

"3-5 days to fix a garbage can?  Or bring a new one?  That's ridiculous."

No.  You're ridiculous.

"I did put it in as an ASAP matter -"

"Well, that's what you told me!  Why does it take so long?!"

"We do apologize for any inconvenience, I talked to the ladies upstairs who are in charge of pulling that report, and they said that it would probably be Monday until that garbage is delivered.  Apparently they've had a problem where the first requests haven't been going through -"

"Well, then maybe you need to start calling everyone and seeing if their request has been filled, because this is ridiculous."

Yeah, because all we have to do all day is to call people to find out how long they've had their garbage on the curb.

"Like I said before, we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused, and she said that they should have it fixed by Monday."

"Well, I presume you don't work on the weekends, so I'll have to have that eyesore out there until Monday."

"No, we do not work during the weekend."

"Well, I'm going to need the number for the mayor.  And those ladies upstairs."

"You can just call this number and I can transfer you to them."

"I need to put things in that garbage can."

"You can go ahead and put things in the garbage can, they'll just empty it when they come to - "

CLICK.

And I'm left there thinking:

Wednesday I received this call from this gentleman.  He wanted an extension on his citation.  I pulled up his citation and saw that he had needed to appear before the Judge THAT day, and that the next day, a warrant would be issued.  "Can you push it back?  My wife got a ticket the same day, and we've been fighting her ticket.  Or can I just pay it?"

"Did you have insurance?  If you can get your insurance company to write you a letter saying you were covered on the date you received the citation, I can dismiss that charge and then you can just pay the speeding portion of the ticket.  Otherwise, it is a mandatory appearance, so you do have to appear before the Judge."

"Our insurance said that they won't write us a letter saying that."

"Then you do have to appear before the Judge, but there will be a warrant until you appear in front of the Judge.  Our court dates are Monday at 8:00 or Wednesday at 1:00."

At which point, he turned into a complete monster, and told me, "You know you guys are ridiculous and terrible to work with, right?"  He snarls.  

"Sir, it's just what the law requires."

"Well, the court in Tooele gave my wife an extension."

"I don't work for the court in Tooele.  Here, we cannot give you an extension unless you appear before the Judge and ask for an extension."

"There's no way I can get to the court in South Ogden.  My job is too demanding.  I don't have the time to get there."

"Well, then maybe you could write a letter to the Judge asking for an extension."

"I don't have time to write a letter.  My job is too demanding.  Maybe if I had more time, but there's no way, no how."

"Well, sir, I've given you your options.  You will receive a warrant, and it will not be lifted until you appear before the Judge."

"So you don't even care that I have children?  You guys are perfectly fine with arresting someone in front of their children?"

And I'm like:

He kept bringing up how he had no time to take care of this, and I told him that he had had the citation for 39 days - after 21 days, he had received a warning letter telling him that he had received a $50 contempt fee and telling him to take care of it before it became a warrant in two weeks.  His response?  "Regardless of that, which really has nothing to do with this..."  Really?  Nothing to do with this?  He's complaining about how he hasn't had TIME.  HE'S HAD THIRTY-NINE DAYS!!!  IT'S A RELEVANT FACT!!!

And after ten minutes of this, he finally asked to talk to my supervisor, who had left for the day.  I told him that she had left for the day, but gave him her name, and he said he'd call first thing tomorrow morning to complain to her.  At the end of the day, my boss told me that she went ahead and issued him a warrant.

Then on the way home, I pulled into the road and was driving along (in the slow lane, going three above the speed limit), when this lady pulls up behind me (seemingly going ninety before she slowed down to a more reasonable speed...like eighty, to avoid hitting me, and she sticks her hand out the window and starts giving me the "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?! MOVE!!" gesture.  And I'm baffled, because the other lanes are empty, and she's flipping out on me, in the slow lane, going a little ABOVE the speed limit.  And I'm left wondering:

Today I tried my hand at warrants.  I LOVED THEM.  It's everything I love: giving people fines and leading to a dramatic courtroom showdown, during which they'll get arrested.  One of my coworkers mentioned how great I was at working for the court, because I have a very low tolerance for B.S., and I'm soulless/heartless/ruthless.  

People are like:

And I'm like:

But deep down (and not so deep down), I really really really love doing warrants/warnings/Orders to Show Cause.  Pretty much anything that results in a contempt fee.

And I act all excited, and then people are baffled as to why I'm excited, and I'm just like:

I'm not supposed to react this way?  But why?

And my coworkers are like:

But I think the main reason I love it so much is because it's a small act of revenge for all the people who call and treat me like dirt because they can.  Because:

If anyone finds my soul/heart, let me know.  Life's lonely without it...but fun.  

..........On second thought, keep it.

Another Week, Another Blog Post

So this past week has been very full, very busy.  My supervisor was out of the office, so I was working crazy overtime to help cover.

Monday was very busy, a court day.  I swear I was running around from the second I walked in the door.  There were no unusual surprises, just the usual people who come in and want their payments moved back, because they can't make their payments.  And they'll stand in front of the judge and say:

I honestly don't remember anything noteworthy from the rest of the week, just that it was CRAZY BUSY.  (This is why I shouldn't wait until Sunday afternoon to do my blog post!!)

Friday, though, our HR person had taken a new job and so it was her last day.  There were also two birthdays in the office, so we decided that everyone was going to lunch.

Everyone except me.  It was somehow decided that I would stay there, and watch the office.  It was particularly biting when the people came downstairs, and said:

And I'm like: "ME!!! ME!!!  I AM!!!!"

And then to be shot down. :(  Very sad.  Much sadness.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I DON'T GET TO GO?!  I LOVE FOOD, IT'S MY LIFE!!! I DO NOT LIKE THIS DECISION!!

But then the day was saved, when Jill said, "I think we can close down the office.  If everyone is going to lunch anyway, there's no reason we can't just close the office for a little bit.  Plus, I really want Shelby to come."

And I'm so happy, I get to go too!!!

So we get to the restaurant, and one of the ladies from upstairs starts talking to me, and she's says, "You have a son, don't you?"

I'm like:

"Um...no..."  And then it dawns on me:

She means this little guy:

Adorable.  So I say, "Well, he's a little furry, but he certainly THINKS he's my son."  Turns out the people upstairs heard my talking about "Teddy," and assumed he was my son.  Whoops.

So then the conversation turns to the other court clerk, whose anniversary was that day.  And somebody goes, "Whose anniversary was it?  Shelby, was it yours?"  And I go, "No, I'm not married, it's Lisa's."

And then the conversation turns to:

"You're not dating anybody?  Why?"

And I'm just like:

So overall, the lunch was good - set a few things straight, and had a delicious burger.  

Last week, somebody came in on a domestic violence charge, and was going on about how he didn't deserve to be there, and using the F bomb very liberally.  So I finally said, "Sir, every time you use the F bomb, a puppy dies.  And I'd hate to add animal cruelty charges."

He didn't think it was very funny, but I felt like saying:

Thanks for reading - I'll do better next week, I promise.

The Grinch Of Court

Dearest Friends, today I realized something.

I am the Grinch of Court.

I come into work in the morning, and I get about my favorite part of the day: warnings.  When I tell people, "GUESS WHAT?!  NOW YOU OWE US $50 MORE!!!"  And my little black heart skips a beat with delight.  I sit there, typing out warnings, and my face goes like this:

And people call, and they're like, "What?!  But it was $50 less yesterday?!"  And I tell them that yes, it was $50 yesterday, but TODAY is NOT YESTERDAY.  Today, it is $50 more.  And they go:

And I go:

On to ruining other people's days!!

Today a lady called in, and she said that she had court in Syracuse, and if she didn't show up there, they would give her a bench warrant.  I told her she had a warrant already with our court, and she asked me for her options.  I told her she could pay the full amount (over $1,000), or she could come to court tomorrow and talk to the Judge.  

"Well, what would you do?"

"I can't advise you what to do, only tell you that you have a warrant, give you the amount, and the court days."

"Well, what am I supposed to do with my baby?"

"A babysitter?"  In my head, I think, "And you should probably see if that babysitter would be willing to stay 44 days, because that's what your warrant is for, and since you're on last chance, chances are you're going to jail."

After she hung up, I received another call, from (it turns out) the woman's mother-in-law.

"Is this the Court?" 

"Yes, it is."

"I saw on Facebook that you guys are looking for my daughter-in-law.  She just moved out of my house, and I've got her new address, if you want it."

And I'm like:

So I get her updated address, and I'm so proud of myself.  

The other day, someone called and wanted to know why their recycle hadn't been picked up.  I told him I didn't know, that he would have to call the garbage company and see why they had left the recycle bin.  I gave him the phone number, and prepared to hang up, when:

"WELL, WHAT DAY ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO PICK UP MY RECYCLE?"

It's never going to be easy, is it?  I look up his address and tell him that his recycle will be picked up on Wednesday, same day as his garbage.

"NUH-UH."

"The garbage company just recently changed it, so that they picked up recycle and garbage on the same day."

"Well, WE didn't get any notification of it!"

"Well, we sent out notification, and it was also in the newsletter."

"Well, we didn't know.  Nobody knew.  So Wednesday?"

"Yes."  The conversation is drawing to a close...I'm almost there!!

"Well, yesterday was Wednesday." 

"Yes..."

"So why wasn't my recycle picked up?"

"I don't know, sir, if you would call the garbage company, they would be able to tell you."

"Is there anyone there SMARTER than YOU than can help me with this?"

Leaving me thinking:

I thought about hanging up at that point, but instead I just transferred him into oblivion.  Moral of the story:  BE NICE TO ME, OR ELSE I WILL SEND YOU TO THE PUBLIC WORKS PHONE, AND THEY LEAVE AT 3:00.

But I always get home at the end of the day, reminding myself that I am the Grinch of the Court, and all I can think is:

Court Day...The Day I'm Reminded That People Are Ultimately Terrible.

I know it's been a long time, dear readers.  But maybe it's because I like to see you waiting with

because I'm cruel.  Who knows.  But the important thing is:

Which is why you're here reading my blog again.

Today was court day, which is always the best day of my week.  It's when the crazies come to court, and I get to see every one of them.  And although every court day is different, they all have one thing in common:

And I love it!!!

Yesterday, a gentleman called me, and started yelling at me about how he couldn't make his payment on time.  I pulled his file and told him that if he did not appear in court the next day, he would have a warrant out for his arrest.  He started yelling about how he "didn't even have the money to pay for a postage stamp or bus fare, and he just barely got a new job, and he wasn't losing this job that paid $102,405,099,000 a year (okay, maybe it was slightly less than that, but from the way he was acting, it sounded like it was that kind of job) for some POS warrant."

I told him he should probably avoid saying things like that in front of the judge, because if he thinks a $400 ticket is expensive, he should try to pay off a $500 contempt fee.  After which he said, "Excuse my French."

So he showed up today (somehow he managed to scrape up the money for bus fare), and he tried to get me to just give him an extension, because he didn't want to have to wait for the Judge to call his case.  I was like:

BUT...you still have to wait.  To which he responded:

You and everyone else, buddy.

AND THE LADY FROM MY FIRST ARREST CAME BACK FOR HER NEW CASE!!!!  I saw her walking down the hallway toward the windows to check in, and I'm screaming internally, because SHE'S BACK!!!!  And I'm like:

You make my day interesting.  And she comes to sign in, like:

Yes. I've missed you so much it hurts.

BUT:

And then one of the court clerks suggested she take care of the new charges when she comes in for her trial in her other case in a few weeks.  And I'm so disappointed, I'm like:

Don't raise my hopes like that, and then dash them against the rocks of my trials!  Don't turn my soul from an ebony blackness from being twisted to the midnight black of unfulfilled and damaged dreams!!

Maybe next time I'll get to see her arrested again.

Then this guy came out of the court room with his wife, and she demanded to know why his fine was higher than it was the last time she paid it.  And while his wife is yelling at me, the husband is just standing there, like he's just terrified by her.  

So I try to explain that there was $150 added to his fine, because he was issued an Order to Show Cause as to why he didn't make his payment (which added $75), and then because he missed it, a warrant was issued for his arrest (which added another $75).  And she went, "YEAH.  And then I made TWO payments of $50, so why isn't it lower?!  It should be LOWER."

She couldn't get it, even when I did the math that after adding $150, taking $100 would STILL leave another $50 over from the last time she paid the fine.  

To which she responded: "CHECK YOUR MATH.  IT SHOULD BE LOWER."

And I'm like:

Math genius, you are not.  So she finally stormed out after deciding she wasn't going to get anywhere with me.

There was this man who came in today, and I could tell he was struggling with his English (and the girl who speaks Spanish upstairs wasn't in the office today).  So I was trying to get him to understand that he had a warrant out for his arrest.  When I finally got him to understand that he had a warrant, he asked me how much.  I wrote down $525, so he would be able to understand.  And he says, "I can pay that."  And pulls out a five dollar bill and a quarter.  So I tell him, "No, five HUNDRED and twenty-five DOLLARS."

And then I explain that he would need to see the Judge to set a payment plan and get the warrant removed.  But every time I try to tell him something in English, he breaks eye contact with me, and his eyes settle...ON MY BOOBS.  EVERY TIME.  And I'm just like:

They don't speak Spanish either.  It's uncomfortable.  But I finally got him to go in to see the Judge.

This guy came in for his Pre-Trial, and he decides he wants to talk...about EVERYTHING.  So I finally get him to fill out the paperwork, and he's like asking me about what I think the Judge will say, if I have a pamphlet about the court proceedings, if I know where the Judge and Prosecutor went to school.  And I have all the phones ringing in the background, and I'm like:

Court Days...the day that makes me think:

But I secretly love them.

Male Nip Slips: The Problem is Real

So it's been a little while since I blogged last.  And there have been some weird/funny/downright scarring things that have happened since then.  And since I want you all to be scarred with me, I'm telling them to you!

I was closing by myself on Tuesday, and this man comes in to pay his fine.  And while I'm taking his payment, he goes, "So, are you alone here?  What time are you done with work?"

And I'm like:

So I'm like, "Well, in the office, but the police station is RIGHT THERE, so not alone in the building, no."

So don't even be getting any ideas, buddy.

Another funny/so messed up it's funny moment was when we received a citation for a man who had had three domestic violence counts in our court.  Apparently, he had just gotten a fourth one that morning.  And when we received the police report, I read it.  Apparently, at 3:00 in the morning, the man got up, and went:

His girlfriend made him a burrito, but when she gave it to him, he said:

And since we can't have messed up burritos, he beat the living snot out of her.  When the cops showed up, he told them she had fallen down the stairs while carrying a box, and that's why she looked beat up.  Apparently he did not think the cops would question WHY she was carrying a box down the stairs at 3:00 in the morning, or how the box beat the living snot out of her.  So, he was arrested for a fourth domestic violence charge, which makes it a felony, and is transferred to District Court.

I received a call today from a guy who wanted me to put a note in his file that it might not be possible for him to come to his court hearing on the 9th, because he told me he was "bleeding out.  And had been losing about a pint a day since Saturday."

"Sir, if you're bleeding heavily, you need to call 911.  I can put a note in your file, but if you need an ambulance - "

"Oh, I'm sure I won't need an ambulance.  I'm going to have my neighbor drive me up to Ogden Regional, I just told him I needed to call you first and let you guys know that I might not make it to the court date."

After I heard from the guy who told me he was bleeding out, I received a call from a woman I've heard from waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too many times in the short time I've worked at the court.

I answer the phone, and she goes, "How come I can't get anyone to call me back?"

And I just think:

I've talked to her THREE times since I've started there, and I've told her the same thing EVERY TIME.  But now she's started calling from a blocked number, so we can't just transfer her upstairs to Holly.

"Well, I can't control when Holly returns her voice mails, ma'am.  Is there something I can do to help you?"

"I'm just so sick of dealing with this.  I didn't even know there was a problem, and I just have been dealing with this for the past two months, and I just want to be done with it.  Did Holly call the Credit Bureau and have them fix my credit?  Did she give me the adjustments?  Does my account show that I paid the amount she told me?"

"Can I get your address and I'll pull it up on the system?"

"Yes, my address is *mumble mumble*."

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that, could you rep -"

"SEVEN.........EIGHT......TWO......SIX.....SOUTH.......TWO......THREE......ZERO.....ZERO.....WEST." And she said this as nastily and like I was stupid as she possibly could, so I'm just sitting there like:

"I do show an adjustment of $103.35, and a payment of $506."

"So my accounts at zero?  Did Holly call the Credit Bureau and get this disaster off my credit score?"

"No, I see your account still owes another $506."  

"Well, that's ridiculous.  You need to write off that amount."

"Holly is the only one that can make adjustments to your account.  I can transfer you, if you'd like."

"Well, she never returns my calls, and I'm getting real sick of this.  I've left messages and called her directly, and I just want this taken care of!"

And I'm thinking, "What?!  Holly never returns your calls?!  HOW CAN THAT BE, YOU'RE SO PLEASANT!!"

"Well, like I said, ma'am, Holly is the only one who can make adjustments to your account.  I can't write off anything, let alone an amount that large."

"Well did she call the Credit Bureau?"

"I don't know, ma'am, you'd have to ask her."

"Well, is she in?"

"I don't know, ma'am, we work on separate floors."

"IS...SHE....IN?!"

Again with the stupid talk!  And I'm thinking:

You didn't get the answer you wanted the first time, so you're going to ask again?  Makes sense.

"No, like I said, we work on different floors.  I do not know if she is in the office right now."

"Isn't there ANYBODY else?"

"No, like I said, Holly is the only one who can make those changes."

"...Fine.  Transfer me.  This is - "

At which point I took great pleasure in cutting her off as I transferred her.

I'm sure you're wondering where exactly I got the title for today's blog post, here it is: today was the one of the most scarring moments in my life, and the inspiration behind today's blog post title.  A man came in today, and he was, um, a little "Buddha-ish" in his physique.  And he was wearing a wife-beater tank top.  I won't post pictures of man nipples for you, but they were gross.  And tattooed with "Justice." 

No, Justice would have been if you had put on a shirt before coming to see me.

Too often we hear about female "nip slips" at important Hollywood events - I think we need to focus on the problem closer to home - male nip slips.  They problem is real, and I'm raising the terror alert to red.

 I wish I was joking.  But I'm not.