Bureaucracy!

Nick Farriella

Parking

A woman moved to a new city and wished to park her car. Double parked out front of her apartment, unloading boxes from the trunk, she was told, good luck, by a man who didn’t give his name, or tips on where to park. After unloading, she drove her car up the street where there were no available spots into a municipal lot at the end of the block. She noted a sign that read ‘Permit Space Only’ in front of about ten open spots. The other spots were metered and already taken. The woman figured she would get a permit since she was moving to the area and called the number listed on the sign. A man answered and spoke very low, in a garbled whisper. Day or night, he said. Both? The woman asked, since she would be working from home. Only have night, he said, there’s a two-year waiting list for day. So why ask, she thought, and also noted the amount of open permit spaces. The night permit was good between 5 p.m. and 8 a.m.

The next morning the woman got up and walked the four blocks to get her car, then drove around looking for open spaces in the street, which she found, after twenty minutes, five blocks further from her apartment than the lot, and it was 2-hour parking only. It took her twenty minutes to walk back, then another twenty minutes an hour and forty minutes later to move her car again, to find another place to park her car, which she found, fifteen minutes later, ten blocks further from her last spot, that also was 2-hour parking only. It took her thirty minutes to walk back home then another thirty minutes an hour and half later to move her car again to find another place to park her car, which she found, ten minutes later, another 2-hour parking only spot ten blocks further from her last spot, a total of twenty-nine crosstown blocks from her apartment. It took her an hour to walk back to her apartment to catch her breath then walk the hour back to move her car. She still had over three hours left before she could park her car in the lot for the night. Exhausted and having missed most of her work, the woman drove back to her block to find parking, which she found, right outside her door, but under a ‘fifteen-minute parking only’ sign. She spent fourteen minutes on her stoop, blinking at the sun, then got back in her car to find another spot, which she still hasn’t found, to this day, she’s out there, still driving, around and around, hopeful she will find a parking spot. If you see her, kindly wave.

Taxes

I worked and made money and gave the money to the company I worked for to give me health care and then gave money to the government for an entire year until the government said I didn’t give them enough money because I gave too much money to the company I worked for to give me health care, so I gave the government more money and now I cannot afford the surgery I need from the condition I got from working so long at the company I worked for and will die in this hospital alone and unpaid for.

Water

On a hot summer day, a man walked into the lobby of The Foundation for Hydration Services and asked for a glass of water. The woman behind the desk commented on how hot a day it was and handed the man a 5x7 index card, where he had to check off a box indicating he wanted a glass of water and not a bottle of water, nor a fountain of water delivered to his home in eight to ten business days. Now can I please have some water, the man asked, after handing over the card to the woman, who commented on how sweaty the man was before saying, not yet, first you must fill out the Thirst Quench Specification sheet. Of course, the man said. On the sheet, the man specified that his water need not be lemon or cucumber, and definitely no zesty-blast or brain enzyme boost powder were needed, either. He wrote in the additional comment box, “just plain old water. i am so very thirsty” and handed it back to the woman. Just plain old water? She asked, wincing. The woman then asked, are you sure you don’t want to express yourself better through one of our 37 flavors? We encourage The Thirsty to exceed a personality of 7 flavor profiles or more, you know, for the complete Hydration Experience. The man said no that he just needed some water, that he’s been walking all day. She said, I see, well in that case, you’ll have to fill out a Flavor Profile Waiver, for legal purposes. The man said, of course, then checked off a box indicating he was waiving his rights to full access to 37 flavor profiles. The woman then said she would need to call floor nine to get a glass of water brought down to the man, who by this time was feeling a little weak in the knees. The dial tone rang out, until the woman said over the phone, she needed a glass of water delivered to the lobby. She was put on hold as the man on floor nine removed a Lobby Water Request form from his desk and began to fill it out. Any flavor profiles? The man from Floor Nine asked. The woman double checked with the thirsty man, who was now convulsing on the floor. Nope, just plain water, the woman said over the phone. Ooo, the man from floor nine said, I’m going to need manager’s approval on delivering down plain old water, hang on I must call up to twelve, which he did, who told him they would need executive clearance to give manager’s approval to send down plain old water, and that they would have to call up to Floor Sixteen for that. By the time the stretcher carried out the thirsty man under a white sheet, the woman from the lobby got a busy tone when trying to dial up to Floor Nine to cancel the request for the plain old water, which was left on the receptionist’s desk on Floor Sixteen and was picked up by the CEO, who spotted it as he just got off the elevator from playing racquetball at the gym and chugged it down in one gulp. Ahhhh, he said, refreshed, what luck.