A few days ago, I turned 35.
Birthdays are SUPPOSED to be happy events. In true Vallazza-Raptor fashion, this milestone birthday was everything complicated - anything but "happy".
Since I recently returned to teaching for a career, I have had nice pockets of vacation available to spend with family. This winter, however, we've all had some degrees of sickness in the house. Since I'm pregnant, I can't really take any medicine when The Crud arrives, except vitamins. I was able to avoid getting sick for the most part except for the night before my birthday when I noticed the back of my throat starting to hurt.
I remember thinking..."NOOOOOO!!! This is going to make for a not so nice birthday tomorrow."
On the date of my actual birthday, I had to meet my ex at the Duval County Courthouse so that we could renew our son's passport together.
We had tried to renew it a few days before at one of the local post offices. We had arrived there together thinking that we did not need an appointment to renew, but just recently, within the last two weeks, they had changed their policy. We showed up and the lady behind the counter had inquired if we had an appointment. We told her "no". I explained that the last time I had been by, during the summer, we hadn't needed one. "I'm so sorry, ma'am," she said. "But we've just changed the policy within the last two weeks".
Since I was going to be picking up my son for my birthday in two days, I told my ex that since he had made the effort to meet me out in Timbuktu of Jacksonville, I would meet him at the Duval County Courthouse. He happily agreed as anything within a 5-mile radius of his house/work would make him happy. Anything beyond that radius, he complains about.
We agreed to meet each other around 12:30. We would go inside and renew his passport. Since we heard you didn't need an appointment at the courthouse to renew passports, we figured this would be an easy, peasy thing to do.
Before I left my apartment, I noticed it was cold outside. I'm a Cold Weather Wimp. I don't like cold weather. That's why I left the Mid-West and now live in Florida. It's supposed to be a tropical paradise most of the year, with temperate weather during the winter. This year has been record-breaking though. The 2017-2018 winter is probably going to be going down in the record books as later on this week, there is a possibility of SNOW! ( No, thank you!).
I asked my husband, Jake, if he would drive me as I didn't want to have to park several blocks from the courthouse. I figured he would take me in his car with the nice heated seats that we've fondly nicknamed, "Butt Fire", and that he would drop me off in front of the courthouse. I would happily exit the vehicle, bound up the steps and go through the scanner like I do at the airport and then renew my son's passport and be done with that aspect of parental responsibility for the next five years.
Jake had just returned from running errands like getting his hair cut and getting vaporizer juice for his vaporizer.
"Babe...I just got home. I just want to fly my spaceship," he replied, very reluctantly. He has this game on Xbox where he literally flies around in a spaceship and blasts enemies for hours on end. Or otherwise, he floats around in space and will occasionally go into hyperdrive to dock his spaceship. It makes him really happy.
Knowing I wouldn't really get anywhere trying to beg him to drive me to the courthouse, I reluctantly left. Before I left though, Jake wanted to make sure I was well bundled up and he tried to wrap my head up in my infinity scarf. I had my phone in my hand and set it down on the ottoman. "I have to put my jacket on first before you wrap me up, my love!"
I put my hot pink, fuzzy jacket with a hoodie on and then promptly forgot everything else and walked out the door.
It wasn't until I was a few miles down the road that I realized I had left my phone inside the apartment.
Glancing at the clock on the dashboard of my car, I knew that if I turned back, I'd be late. However, I had just texted plans for the night to a friend of mine who was driving up to see me. Since she is very detail oriented, I knew that I would want her to know the nitty-gritty details, but I figured my time at the courthouse would be short.
After a short drive of about 20 minutes, I finally got to downtown. I turned left from U.S. 1 onto Adams Street and went west a few blocks until I saw that I was getting closer to the courthouse.
I was lucky to find "close" parking near the courthouse with a parking meter next to me. For me, this was about three blocks away, but in full view of the fancy courthouse. They recently built a BEAUTIFUL courthouse complex. I will say that for them, but honestly, what's the need in building a huge complex if the older one was fine? I don't believe in waste, but if you need to expand, I suppose you could build UP. But then again, I'm not part of the city civic planning. I'd have better sense, but whatever.
I parked my car and grabbed my purse. Inside my purse, I grabbed my wallet to see if I had any spare change, but all I had was a credit card. Knowing that downtown Jacksonville is notorious for panhandlers and being that I am almost 7 months pregnant, I wanted to pay for my parking and get the heck out of the windy cold and inside the courthouse.
Wouldn't you know it? As soon as I insert my card into the parking meter, does a clearly very homeless man wearing a dirty sweater comes around the corner and makes a beeline for me.
Trying not to appear freaked out by his appearance, I frantically am trying to read the directions on the screen before he can ask me for money. However, I was too slow.
"Ma'am? Could you see in your heart to give a poor old man like myself some spare change? I'm powerful hungry!" inquired the man.
I had a dollar in my coin purse, which I quickly handed to the man and said, "That's all I have! Now go away! I'm hungry too!" and I showed him my pregnant belly. He smiled a toothless smile, but thanked me profusely and went on his merry way.
I quickly scanned the area to make sure that no one else was watching me. A woman wearing a bright, magenta colored jacket with a kelly green purse and funky leggings is a sitting duck target for any thief. I quickly finished paying and began walking the three blocks to the courthouse.
By the time I got to the crosswalk in front of the courthouse, I was already feeling a distinct "Slow Down, Mommy!" pain in my belly. I have noticed that with this pregnancy, the baby or perhaps my uterus, will jab me sharpy in the right side of my belly and then I HAVE to slow down. I managed to encounter my ex along with our son at the crosswalk. I began to rub the area of my belly that was beginning to feel sore.
"Oh, you're here!" exclaimed my ex. "I called your phone and Jake answered."
I apologized for leaving my phone at home since I really felt that I needed it, but he understood and we proceeded to walk what seemed another half-block to the steps of the courthouse.
We walked into the foyer of the courthouse, which honestly is a very pretty place. I'm not faulting the architectural design of the courthouse at all. You'll see my beef in a moment.
You enter and there are four x-ray scanner machines along with metal detectors. Only two were in use that day, numbers 3 and 4 to the right.
I walked to Number 3 and placed my purse in the box. They scanned my purse. I walked through the metal detector and was about to grab my purse when the lady who scanned my purse said, "Ma'am, we have to stop you. You have prohibited items in your purse."
Totally perplexed as I had not seen a SINGLE SIGN nor POSTER anywhere in the entrance stating what was prohibited in the courthouse or not, I walked back to where the lady was.
I handed her my purse and she took out my little bag of crochet hooks. Since I figured there would be a short wait to be called up to the window, I figured I would bring something to entertain myself with during my wait and make a scarf.
She explained that my crochet hooks, both the plastic ones and the metal ones, along with my tiny fold up scissors (only 1.5 inches or shorter) were contraband.
I asked if I could leave them with her and collect them on my way back out of the courthouse.
She showed me a little bucket with a funny looking lid on it. "Ma'am, anything you give me will become the property of JSO once you hand it over to me. I suggest if you want to keep it, you walk back out to your car and drop it off there. Then come back in and do your business."
I will pause here and state that I am an EXTREME rule follower. Since I'm a teacher, I follow rules and directions, no matter how absurd I think they are. Will I complain about it? Hell yeah! But do I follow the rules? Yes.
If it's a matter of not having followed rules, it's because I didn't know what the rules were or otherwise, I was misinformed.
My ex rolled his eyes when I said I paid over $100 for my crochet hooks and I was not about to leave the courthouse without them. I turned around and we ended up walking to his car, which was more conveniently parked closer to the courthouse, but still a good two blocks away.
We walked back inside, did the same spiel again, when wouldn't you know it? My purse beeped...again...
"Ma'am? Your keychain is contraband. You can't have these tools on your keychain." These tools were actually a really handy toolset that I use every day at school to tighten my easel or help other teachers out. It was two "keys" in the form of a Phillips Head and Flat Head screwdriver. But because they were over an inch long, apparently they were considered contraband.
Being that I had just walked back and forth to a vehicle TWICE, in the windy cold, and that I was getting hangry, I was not about to walk a THIRD time to my vehicle to deposit my entire keychain with my key fob on it. What if some asshole decided to hijack my car? I wasn't about to let THAT happen. My car may be kind of crappy, but it is my car and I bought it. I rolled my eyes but proceeded to take my precious tools off of my keychain. Sayonara, toolkit! You served me well!
I handed the lady my tools, who must have thought I was being impolite because I merely handed them over to her without saying anything. She gave me a look with pursed lips but proceeded to dump my tools in the JSO bucket. I hope JSO finds a good use for them. :(
Finally...after much hassle and annoyance, we wander inside the courthouse and find where we need to be. We grab a ticket and proceed to sit.
and sit.
and sit.
About 20 or 30 minutes had passed before my ex noticed that we had been sitting there for a while.
"Man, this is taking forever!" he exclaimed, shaking his head.
Our number was finally called and we went to the window. The lady was helping us when she noticed that our son's birth certificate was not an original, albeit a color copy.
"You can't use this. They'll want a real copy of his birth certificate, " She said.
My ex explained that we had used a color copy of his birth certificate previously five years ago without any issues. She wasn't convinced, but she was going to let us try to use the color copy anyways.
When it came time to pay, my ex hands the lady his credit card.
"We don't take credit or debit cards for these kinds of transactions," she said.
"It says there is a 3.5% convenience fee for that," he said, pointing to the marquee blinking above our heads.
Apparently, if you're paying your property taxes or something other than a federal fee, you can pay using a debit/credit card. You have to pay with Money Order or Personal Check for passport renewal.
He looked at me. "Do you have a check?"
Um...no? You said you had this all taken care of, so I didn't bring a checkbook or anything.
He asked, "Can't we just pay cash for this? Is there an ATM around?"
No sir, she explained. Has to be a personal check or a money order. She explained there was a 7-11 down the street or a bank around the corner that could help us.
So...we had to leave...again...
By this time, I had full blown hanger issues. I hadn't eaten much except early in the morning and it was already 1:30 p.m.. I could feel the anger rising in my shoulders.
"I've gotta eat something or else I'm going to kill someone," I said, as I left the courthouse again.
I noticed that Pita Pit was literally down the block from the crosswalk. I love Pita Pit, so I grabbed my son and we promptly marched off to get a pita.
"Mommy? Does Pita Pit have dessert?" asked GC.
"No, boo-boo. They have yummy sandwiches...," I said as my voice trailed off. We stood in front of Pita Pit, at 1.30 p.m. and their doors were closed. The lights were off.
I saw a poster on the door that said that they were closed between Christmas and New Years to give their employees a break, but that they'd see us bright and early on January 2nd!
I began to growl. The Child Within gave me a few swift kicks in the ribs as I quickly scanned the area for other places to eat. I looked down the street. I didn't notice anything but the Greyhound station. I turned back the direction I came and walked the direction where my car was parked. I ended up walking about 6 blocks to where my car was parked. I checked the meter again. Luckily I still had 45 minutes left on the meter. Walked a few more blocks to the east and saw a BBQ joint. I headed towards that establishment when I noticed they were closed as well. Completely frustrated, I turned around again and noticed that there was a pizza joint called "Big Pete's" on the corner.
Knowing that GC loves pizza and knowing that he would eat a slice of pizza if I got some, we walked in there. A long line of people wrapped around the counter and was close to the door when I walked in. Internally, I groaned.
Luckily, Big Pete's employed a very fast employee. He was adept at getting the customer's order and fulfilling their order quickly. I noticed there were three slices of pizza with chicken and vegetables. My mouth watered. GC loves anything with just cheese, so he saw three slices of cheese pizza.
"Mommy?" he asked, tugging on my jacket. "Can I have the cheese pizza?"
I nodded, keeping my eye on the chicken pizza, thinking about the mouth-watering delight I was about to consume...the prize is mine!!!!
The lady in front of me placed her order. I saw the chicken pizza disappear from the case and into her doggy bag. The Inner Goddess in my brain immediately began to jump and scream and point her trident at all Chicken Pizza Stealing Women in her little world, blasting them to smithereens. Pew pew!
My outward face though, smiled contritely. GC watched in horror that my pizza had disappeared. "Mommy? Isn't that the pizza you wanted?" he asked.
I told him that yes, that was the pizza that I wanted, but that I would just have to suck it up and eat something else. We can't have everything we want in life when we want it. We have to be willing to sacrifice for other things.
When it was my turn to order, I quickly told the guy, "I'm pregnant. I'm hungry..." and he finished for me, "You're dangerous. I understand, ma'am. My wife is the same way!" he chuckled
I ordered 5 slices of cheese pizza and a slice of supreme pizza since that was the only one that had any kind of veggies on them.
We quickly sat down and I began to gobble down my pizza. After finishing one slice, I looked at the clock and noticed that we had exceeded our time. I told GC to quickly finish the slice he was working on and we'd just put our food in the car on the way back to the courthouse.
We walked several blocks back to where my car was parked. I opened the door and tossed the food inside. GC asked if he could sit in the car. 'What for?" I asked.
"I'm cold, Mommy!" he said.
I pointed to the courthouse. "We have to go back inside, Giancarlo. We have to finish getting your passport renewed."
Oh! My son thought we were on some sort of adventure. We met back up with his dad outside the courthouse. "Where did you guys go? I went to Pita Pit and saw that it was closed. Since you don't have your phone, I couldn't get in touch with you. You're late!" my ex said, very crossly.
I explained what had happened, but that worse things would come to pass to people if I didn't end up eating at least a little something. I told him about our Mini Adventure.
"Oh, ok. Well, come on. This is taking forever," he said.
We walked the extra three blocks back to the courthouse and back inside. I greeted the security guards again...for the third time. I placed my purse back onto the belt when the x-ray machine beeped again.
Dear. Sweet. Baby. Jesus... WHAT NOW?
This third time through the scanner, it was now my tweezers hidden in my wallet that were setting off the alarm.
"Ma'am? You can't come in here with tweezers," said the security guard, this time a man.
Mind you...they didn't happen to notice my tweezers the FIRST or even the SECOND time I went through security. They didn't even notice my former toolkit the FIRST time I ran my keys through... I mean, what kind of people did they employ to run these machines and catch contraband?!!! Apparently, they hire neanderthals!
I will again pause her and interject.
I have flown on airplanes both domestically and internationally with my crochet hooks without a single problem. I have taken my mini-toolkit with me to the airport and on the plane without issues. I have taken TWEEZERS to pluck my eyebrows on the plane. ON A PLANE!!!
They're telling me that they consider all of the above items to be "dangerous weapons" and that I can cause serious harm to myself and others with the items.
As I mentioned before - I am a rule follower. I have no problem following rules, regulations or directions. ESPECIALLY for the safety of others.
What I have a problem with is the fact that this is the THIRD time I've been through security and they want me to either give them my tweezers or take them back to my car.
That's when I lost it.
I began to yell. I never yell. I'm usually very complacent and polite and treat the people behind the counter with courtesy and politeness. I used to work in the service industry and hated when people chewed me out, but that was usually because they were unhappy people with their own lives.
I did counter and say, "I realize you're just doing your job by telling me what I can and can't bring into the courthouse for the safety of others, but you all need to do this on the FIRST go. I'm seven months pregnant. I parked three blocks away! This is the THIRD time I've had something beep on this damn machine! You all need to have signs that say what is and what is not allowed! Like, what the hell?!! I already gave you my toolkit that I use for MY JOB! I'm not giving you my crochet hooks. I'm not giving you my tweezers. I mean, who the HELL AM I GOING TO STAB WITH A PAIR OF TWEEZERS???!!!! I'd be more concerned with a pregnant lady who is so hungry that she would actually kill someone over the fact that she has had to leave three times!!!"
The security guard motioned for one of the police officers that was hanging out behind the frosted glass.
The officer came over, and I explained my spiel again. I even added that the next time I came to the courthouse, I should just wear a thong, a pair of pasties, keep my ID in my butt crack and just have my key fob so that I wouldn't have to go through this ordeal again.
He didn't bat a single eyelash.
"Ma'am? I would recommend that you not say those things, especially in the courthouse."
My ex grabbed the tweezers and said he would take them to his car. I'm pretty sure he threw them away because I still can't find them.
He motioned for me to sit down and calm down. There was a bench close by where I sat down and proceeded to cry out of frustration.
"Mommy? Are you okay?" GC tried to comfort me by patting my arm.
I waited for about ten more minutes when my ex returned.
"Did you get a number?" he asked.
"No! They told me to sit down and calm down!" I shouted.
The Ex looked at me with a sidewise glance, as if to say, "Holy cow! I've never seen her this upset!"
Even when I was still a couple with my ex, whenever we would argue, I really never got too visibly upset, save for the time I kicked the recycling bins out the garage door. But that was years ago.
We got another number but luckily were served within 5 minutes. The guy at the window was very nice, very helpful and helped improve my overall mood and the experience that I had been having.
We paid the fee and we left. I was still so angry about what had happened. I'm pretty sure had Medusa really existed in real life, I would have been her a la "Clash of the Titans" from 1980. Since my eyes are already green, they would have been glowing and shooting laser beams. I would have had snakes coming from every hair follicle on my body.
Now that several days have passed, I find this debacle a little humorous. My husband sure was scared for his life when I returned home. I sat down and told him the whole story, all the while hoping that I could massage my shoulders with our massage sling. I put the device on my shoulders, hung my arms in the loops, and pressed the power button.
Nothing. Happened.
I was SO mad I threw my massage device down and proceeded to throw a silent tantrum a la toddler style. I sat in the chair and kicked my legs up and down. I clenched my fists and threw them down to my sides.
Both my husband and my son looked at me askance and inquired if I needed to be fed. LOL.
All in all...my experience at the courthouse was less than ideal. Honestly, the next time I go, I'll remember to just bring the bare essentials.
But seriously, they really need to have a poster or SOMETHING listed with prohibited items as well as train their staff to spot "contraband" on the first scan.
Now that several days have passed, I find this debacle a little humorous. My husband sure was scared for his life when I returned home. I sat down and told him the whole story, all the while hoping that I could massage my shoulders with our massage sling. I put the device on my shoulders, hung my arms in the loops, and pressed the power button.
Nothing. Happened.
I was SO mad I threw my massage device down and proceeded to throw a silent tantrum a la toddler style. I sat in the chair and kicked my legs up and down. I clenched my fists and threw them down to my sides.
Both my husband and my son looked at me askance and inquired if I needed to be fed. LOL.
All in all...my experience at the courthouse was less than ideal. Honestly, the next time I go, I'll remember to just bring the bare essentials.
But seriously, they really need to have a poster or SOMETHING listed with prohibited items as well as train their staff to spot "contraband" on the first scan.
