So, I really don’t want to be in the habit of blogging multiple times a day, or even daily, but I experienced a classic “me” moment and felt I had to share. Although I’ve probably already told you if you’re reading this. 😛
So, part of my job is to go to events at various governmental offices. Some you need ID to get in, some you don’t. Apparently, the Social Security offices are ones where you need ID to get in.
Today, myself and 3 co-workers (including 1 VP and the GM of the office) went to the Social Security Administration for an event about the launch of their new, online application for Social Security retirement benefits (actually a lot cooler than it sounds — but I guess that’s not hard). We’re running late getting out of the office and guess which genius forgot their wallet. That would be this chick.
We get to the office. Get out of the cab. And I have a heart attack when I realize what I’ve done. Keeping quiet, I hope and pray that we don’t need ID. We get past building security, no problem and I start to breathe again. We get to the 8th floor and there’s a security desk with 2 security guards who immediately ask for ID.
I explain the situation: that I forgot my wallet, I don’t normally do this but can you please let me in (because I also have no money to get back to the office and, being new to DC, have no idea how to walk back). They hem and haw and literally call 3 people. A supervisor comes out and asks if there’s anything I have with my picture on it. Sadly, there was.
This month’s copy of our magazine had just come out with my interview with the Commissioner of Social Security and another article I wrote. The second article, you guessed, was accompanied by my picture. And I, being shameless apparently, attempted to use that as picture ID. They didn’t buy it. Eventually, we got the event administrator to come out and sign me in.
I wish the story ended there…
On the way back to the office, our GM decides we should take the metro instead of a cab. Which is great. It saves money, we get to walk, we get to bond as coworkers. Except. I had no money OR metro card because I had no wallet.
I am mocked mercilessly for this by everyone on the way to L’Enfant Plaza, with the GM offering to buy my farecard as I’m now his “surrogate daughter,” with plenty of references to my actual mother (who is a faculty member with my company). There was also talk of him mentioning this incident in his company wide blog. I’m praying that doesn’t happen.
I think my favorite quote, though, had to be when talking to our new Policy team member about when he got my resume (having known my mom through her work on the board of directors): “I looked at her resume and thought if she is half as enthusiastic as her mother, she’d fit in great at WorldatWork. Turns out she’s her mother on steroids.”
But hey, at least I now have a souvenier farecard with Barack Obama’s picture on it. There’s always a silver lining.