Our lost marriage certificate was never found. I contacted the judge that performed the ceremony and he in turn contacted the vital records department to find out what to do. The judge received a new license application with our marriage license application number penned in on the top. He filled out his section, I picked it up at the courthouse, and Kurt and I filled out our section. The date used on the new form was to stay the same as the ceremony date and the judge asked that we approximate the date that we first applied for our marriage license on the applicable part of the form. Kurt being the anal retentive pack rat fastidious record keeper that he is looked up the receipt from three months ago and entered the EXACT date in which we filled out the application. We then hunted down our witnesses for their signatures.
Yesterday our adventure took us to the county courthouse. Actually, Sophia and I took a field trip to the vital records department. I walked up to the desk around eleven. There were two people processing the vital records line. Each of them finished with one person and the guy took the person in front of me. I was about the approach the lady when she indicated that the other person would help me. Ok, no big deal. Then she felt bad for some reason and took me before going on break. Because everything had been done according to the directions of the judge, I was confident that all was smooth sailing. Apparently it was an unusual ‘glass half full’ day for me because smooth wasn’t exactly how it went down. Sandpaper in place of toilet tissue, anyone?
I handed the woman behind the counter my newly completed form. The lady stared at the paper and then looked at me, “when was this completed?” she asked. Well, the judge signed this particular paper around the 16th or 17th, then I got my sticky little hands on it and filled out my section on the 20th or 21st. I don’t remember the date the first witness signed it since it was my husbands job to hunt him down but the second witness signed it on the 24th. Why? Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?
I actually explained that the original was lost and the judge had us fill out this new one. She looked at me as if I was crazy. This doesn’t have the header across the top. She looked at me for an explanation. At this point her coworker audibly apologized to her for having her take my case. Asshole. It’s not my fault this became complicated. “That’s the form the judge gave us to fill out.” Saying it felt a lot like using a stupid excuse on a grade school teacher. “But really, the dog did eat my homework.” She shot a look as if to say, “Really? You’re going to stick with the, ‘it’s lost’ story?”
She banged away at her keyboard and then sighed, “I don’t have access.” She told her coworker. He had finished with his customer and joined in with her. Both of them then got up, went in separate directions, and told two different people at the other end of the room. I could hear them say, “She lost her marriage license.” Goddamnit! I wanted to shout that I wasn’t the one that lost it. I don’t know who did, it could have been the judge, the lackey that he had mail it, the various postal workers that handle mail from his courthouse to this one, an internal mail sorter, or someone with in the vital statistics department. We won’t mention the last one to them it may make them cry. I refrained from proclaiming my innocents for fear of being cast in the next Jerry Seinfeld spin off “Mundane Mayhem”, or worse the next Jerry Springer show.
Another employee came up to the woman’s computer and punched some keys. She came back to the desk with the paper I handed to her. “Do you know where the original is?” Are you fuckin’ kidding me lady? If I knew where the original was don’t you think I would have handed it to you? Is there something about the way I look that makes her think I enjoy hanging out at the courthouse making people jump through hoops by telling them I lost a piece of paper that I paid $62 to obtain? I know I live in a podunk saw-toothed mouth-harp-playing hick-town but waiting in lines is still not a pastime I seek out. It really isn’t. Dumbass. I could be at home watching Clifford the Big Red Dog for chrissakes.
Keeping my face a stone like as possible so that my infamous sneer of disdain didn’t become too obvious I simply said, “uumm no”. She looked at me and sighed. Yep, I’m still sticking to my story. It was lost. She went to consult with yet another person and then came back again.
“Ok,” she said, “we’re going to do this for you.” Wow, I feel honored. Truly.
I don’t know why I assumed that there was a backup plan for when situations like this arise. Between all the marriages, divorces and remarriages I would think that someone in the history of the county has had their paperwork lost before. We had the judge call them and they sent him the paper and instructions. One would think that they would make some sort of notation on our file.
April 28th, 2009 at 7:02 am
Lordy. I would have been irate if people were treating me like that when it wasn’t my fault.
I’m glad you got it all taken care of, though!
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April 28th, 2009 at 3:09 pm
Stupid assholes like that, give semi-stupid beaurocrats a bad name!!!
Loved the Tulip pics…G
April 28th, 2009 at 10:40 pm
My Irish would have been so up! I might have exploded.
Erica Reply:
April 30th, 2009 at 10:25 pm
Susan Anderson – hahahaha Kurt’s mom came out here to visit in March and Sophia had one of her seizures when we all went out to dinner. At the time we were still thinking that they were like random fits of anger, so I turned to Kurt’s mom and said, “That’s the angry Viking in her.” Most of Kurt’s heritage is Norwegian/Danish. I continued with, “It’s a good thing she’s part beaner so she’s too lazy to do anything about it.”