99 percent of all the Washingtonians I’ve met are really, really nice, unbelievably cooperative, and helpful. Because of that, they make the other 1 percent seem like the world’s biggest jerks. I have never seen anything like the bureaucratic brick walls that get thrown in front of you out here, and there’s no getting around them. None. It makes you feel like you’re in an insane asylum.
- Someone was stealing my mail, so I had to get a locked mailbox. This caused the post office to stop delivering my mail. When I finally got through the red tape far enough to actually talk to someone local, they said they stopped delivering it because the shape of my mailbox is unacceptable to them, and because the postman would have to alter the angle of his hand by a few degrees to slip the mail in the slot, they would no longer deliver to that box. “Fine. I’ll eat the 45 dollars I spent on the damned box and get another one. Now will you deliver the two weeks’ worth of mail you are holding?” “No. You have to come and get it.” “But I work all the hours you are open.” “I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am.” So I guess my mail is being held hostage.
- The property management company that handled the year’s lease on my rental place was more than happy to take my money, but after doing so, knowing that I was about to drive 3100 miles, they would not arrange for me to get the key on a Sunday unless I forked over another 150 dollars. Over my dead body. Fortunately someone was kind enough to let me camp out that night at their house or I would have had to sleep in the driveway.
- My dogs needed heartworm medication for next month. The vet here would accept my Florida vet records as proof that I had gotten all the required vaccinations for the dogs. No problem. But when it came to proof that they were getting a certain monthly dose of heartworm meds, something they could easily sell me, no, they had to actually see and examine the dogs. Which cost me 250.00. Not a single shot, mind you. Just a look at the dogs and the sale of the pills. What, did they think I’d be selling Trifexis on the black market?
- A sailing vessel captain offered to give local Bridge Operators a boat ride. We were all excited. But then the bureaucracy said it would be unethical. What kind of quid pro quo did they think the captain was looking for? That the bridge be raised up 30 seconds faster? Honestly.
It’s these human brick walls, these rigid people who refuse to be the least bit flexible or reasonable who leave a bitter taste in one’s mouth. I don’t understand the utter lack of consideration and douchebaggery. It stuff like this that almost makes me wish I were back in Florida. Almost.
I think I need ice cream.
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