Once I get a hold of George and he gives me the OK to use money orders, Mike and I head to the post office. It took him a while to get back to me so now I feel a bit rushed. As soon as we get them, I have to shower and get ready, meet George to sign the lease, and then be at work by 5. We’re OK with time, as long as everything goes smoothly.
There’s a line of about eight people in front of me but it’s moving quickly. Step up to the teller and she says I need three money orders. She rings me up and I pay with my ING card. She asks me to enter my pin. Oh God. I don’t have it memorized, and I don’t have it on me. They gave me a pin and I can’t change it, which is really dumb because I have to remember it. It’s more dumb that I don’t have it written down somewhere. When I’ve used it lately, they run it as credit and don’t ask me for the pin, so I haven’t had to think about it. The teller can’t run it as credit. I have to go home. Get in the car and call ING, asking the guy for my pin. He can’t give it to me (why?), but he can give me a new one. OK, fine. “OK, you’ll get a new pin in the mail in about three days.” Wait, no, I need it today. I need it right now. Nevermind, don’t change my pin! I’ll find it.
This is when I start to freak out, as per usual. I have the paper somewhere, but no clue where. Mike is trying to stay calm. I’m frantically searching the computer area, then the bedroom, then all my bags. Mike is doing a thorough search of the car. I ask Troy for his keys to look in his car, because the last time I remember having the paper I was driving it. I can’t find it and feel like I’m going to start hyperventilating. Break out into tears. Why can’t things just be easy? I have to sign the lease today. At least, I feel like I do or it’s going to get snatched up. If I go to work without signing the lease I’ll be completely miserable. I take out my phone to call Mom, which is pointless because there is nothing she can do for me from home. I just always call her when I don’t know what to do. Mike stops me. “Is this it?” He’s looking in my Christmas stuff that I started to pack up. There’s a letter from ING. No, that’s not it…but it might be with it. He takes out some more papers and I see it. I want to kiss him. We jump back in the car and head back to the post office.
Mike tells me to email the pin to myself. I do, then make a note in my phone. OK, Mike, I’ll get a Bank of America account. You win. He’s been telling me to get one for the longest time, but I refused. I just don’t like having so many accounts. This time in the post office it takes forever because this one customer is taking her grand old time with my teller (she told me to come back to her when I had my pin). Get my three money orders and I’m out the door, quick shower at home, and then I’m on my way. I’m five minutes late, but George seems unphased.
He’s not Indian at all. Actually, he looks French, and now when he’s talking to me I realize he has a very thick French accent (I think). We go inside to sign the lease when he notices my name. “Oh, you have a very famous name.” People tell me I have a good name, so I thank him, but then I realize he’s not really saying that. “Yea, Lindsay Lohan.” Oh, yea. “She lives right next door. You can see her place from the second floor.” Really? I have heard customers saying that she lives in the area, but now it seems we’ll be neighbors. George is a funny guy. He asks where I work and says I can have the keys a couple days early if I get him a free drink when he comes in. I’m sure we can arrange something, George.