Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I Acted Like An Adult. And I Didn't Like It

Remember the other day when I wrote this post about all the things I never said I'd do?  Well apparently I should have added Act Like An Adult to the list.  Although I thought it was pretty much implied when I said I'd never do adult-like things like laundry, cleaning, being responsible, etc.

Yesterday, I was forced to act like an adult, and I was not pleased.  Apparently the universe is under some delusion that I am an adult.  Where they would get such a ridiculous idea, I do not know.  I don't even play one on t.v.!

Honestly.

Okay, sure, one day I turned eighteen, and then eventually 21, and then 25 was all, "hey, hey, hey you're halfway to 50!" and then 28 led to 29 which will lead to ages of which WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK.  But I hardly think a mere number qualifies me for being responsible.

I mean seriously, I didn't stop peeing my pants until I was nineteen.

Oh stop judging me.  It only happens when I laugh really, really, really hard and the fact that I haven't had an "incident" in ten years means life has just gotten too damn serious.

So, the husband calls me with an urgent tone and begins talking urgently about things that sound rather urgent. Something about money, and bank account, and not enough money, and a mistake, and transfers, and more scheduled transfers, and was all, "you have to take care of this right away."

And I was all, "crapdammit!" because I knew this was one of those things I had to deal with.  I couldn't just ignore it, like a clogged drain, or dishes in the sick, or a broken garage door, or those rats currently making a nest in the corner.

I dragged my ass out of bed, which, I might add, is noteworthy for two reasons: It was before noon and I had cramps like a mo-fo.

I would also like to add that I would just love to see men try to act all adult-like when it feels like their uterus is being wrung out like a wet towel.

Let’s all take a moment to appreciate that visual.

And so began the phone calls and the searches for paperwork and logging into accounts and forgetting passwords and trudging upstairs, then downstairs and more phone calls, and back upstairs again and oh this is the wrong paperwork, back downstairs again and OMG WHERE THE HELL DID ALL THESE STAIRS COME FROM! and being on hold for twenty minutes and then accidentally hanging up on customer service and WHY THE HELL AM I DOING ALL THIS BEFORE I’VE HAD MY COFFEE!!

Finally.  FINALLY!  All that nonsense was finished but the adult-like fun wasn’t over.  I had to go to the bank.

That’s right.  I had to get dressed and leave my house.  I didn’t touch my hair, didn’t put on makeup, and slipped my chipped toe-nail polished feet into some beach sandals.  I looked like hell, but who cares?  All I needed to do was make a deposit at the ATM.  I had absolutely NO PLANS to get out of my car and engage with other human beings.

But you know what they say: When man plans, the bank says f*ck you.

I get to the bank, insert my ATM card and the machine spits it back out.  My card is expired, because of course it is.

I am forced to go inside and deal with a human.  Without makeup.  With my hair a mess.  With chipped-toe nail polish.  With a uterus that’s been wadded up like garbage and tossed about my insides.

Human: I see you would like to make a deposit.  Do you have a deposit slip?

Me: No.

Human: No problem.  Just fill this out and hand me your I.D.

Me: Great.

I begin filling out the form when suddenly I am bombarded by people.  One snips a strand of hair, another sticks me with needles and starts drawing blood while another takes my fingerprints and yet another swabs the inside of my cheek.

Me: What the hell is going on!

Human: You didn’t bring your own deposit slip.  We’re just verifying you are who you say you are.

Me: Is this really necessary?  I’m depositing money, not trying to empty my bank account.

Human: Standard security procedures.

A woman holding a Q-tip tells me to spread my legs.

Me: WHY?!

Her: Vagina swab.

Me: Are you freaking kidding me!

Human: Sorry for the intrusion ma’am.  Our vagina swabbers used to be much stealthier, our customers didn’t even know they were being swabbed.  Get in, Get out.  That’s our motto.  Well, it used to be, but well, bad economy, lay-offs, Wall Street, Lehman Brothers, Morgan Stanley, Charles Schwab…

Me: Okay, now you’re just naming financial institutions.  None of which have anything to do with my vagina being probed with a Q-tip.

Human: Actually ma’am, it has everything to do with it.  You see…

Me: You know what?  I don’t care.  Swab me.  Poke me.  Prod me.  Do whatever you gotta do in order to take my damn money and let me out of here.

Human: As you wish, madam.

And so I spread my legs...

Okay, that didn't actually happen.  But every time, EVERY TIME! I go to my bank, I leave feeling like I've been seven kinds of violated.

Being an adult is fun!

I wonder what next week has in store.  Anal probe by my insurance company?


29 comments:

  1. Hahahhahhaahaha those banks are strict with security!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I suppose I should be grateful, but vagina swabbing? Come one!

      Delete
  2. THIS is why I don't do banks!!! I agree with you! Being an adult is NOT fun. HOWEVER, we can stay up as late as we want!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So very true. And that, my friend, makes it all worth it.

      Delete
  3. Hey! I've nominated you for the Kreativ Blogger Award. For more info, go to http://thespotts.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/kreativ-blogger-award/.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Squee!! That is awesome! Thank you so much!

      Delete
  4. Hahahaha! I keep telling anyone who will listen to my whining how sucky being an adult is. I keep telling my kids too! Nobody listens to me. But of course YOU get it cuz you're my sister and all.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nobody ever listens to us! At least we have each other.

      Delete
  5. May I quote you on the wrung out towel uterus thing? because my hubby, after 8 years of wedded bliss, still does not quite get "how bad can it be, really?" I offered to pull his scrotum up over his head for comparison, but he's 6 feet plus to my 5 feet and well...who could wear heels when their uterus is being wrung out?!

    Although, sticking him will all money matters...probably not a bad trade off.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pull his scrotum over his head. HAHAHAHAHA! I love it. You can quote me and I'll quote you. That might be the greatest thing I've ever heard.

      Delete
    2. Bwahahaha! I'm so using the pull his scrotum over his head line on my hubs! I usually just offer to graze his balls with a nut slap (because a graze is 10 times worse than a point blank nut punch... just ask your husband).

      SG - sorry your vagolation --> that would be vag + violation = vagolation. Not to be mistaken with vajuvenation; vaginal rejuvenation procedure.

      Delete
  6. Being an adult sucks...swabbing or not. Now I'm never going to go into a bank without looking for a man with a Q-Tip. Ewwwwwww!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ewwww is right! Banks just have no boundaries these days.

      Delete
  7. Don't you hate it when humans just start naming financial institutions? It's ridiculous is what it is. I'm sorry you had to go through all of this.

    ReplyDelete
  8. This one slayed me totally. You are my long-lost twin w all the "I actuay had to leave the house" stuff, and the convo about money and lost passwords.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love finding long lost twins! Leaving the house is terrible, especially if it doesn't involve bacon.

      Delete
  9. Well, how have I been living in the blogging world without you? That's plain rubbish. Happy new follower, so clearly my life is improved.

    Thanks for visiting See Beautiful. If you want to follow us we can't promise improved living, so it's just as safe to steer clear and save precious moments of your day. Who really needs to see beautiful? ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rubbish indeed! I need to see beautiful! We ALL need to see beautiful!

      Delete
  10. So. This is pretty much my favorite thing I've seen all day.
    Of course, it's only 2 am... But it's funnier than that makes it sound.
    Crapdammit. That's my word of the day... It just has a ring to it. Love this post... you crack me up. (too soon for a crack joke after the insurance? I apologize)

    ReplyDelete
  11. LOLOLOLO Wow. This is hilarious!! I don't often laugh at blogs at 6:30 am, but you've just made my day and my new "must-read" list!! :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sa-weet! Yeah, there's not much funny at 6:30 a.m. I hope you were up for a good reason, like picking up your lottery check or signing for twenty tons of bacon delivered to your door.

      Delete
  12. PS I just added you to my blogroll too so others can enjoy the fun

    ReplyDelete
  13. I love you for saying that! I say that all the time..."it's funny cuz it is true." It IS true. And so funny.

    ReplyDelete

I had to change my comment settings because I was getting too much spam. You can no longer comment anonymously. (I don't think anyone besides the spammers were doing this.) But I don't want to block the rest of you from commenting! If you're having trouble, tweet me at @sarcasmgoddess or email sarcasmgoddess at ymail dot com and I'll see what I can do to fix it.