Good Service, Bad Service

Monday night my Great Grandmother passed away. She was 3 months away from turning 100 years old. She died peacefully in her sleep, as we all should. We weren’t that close.

But I am close to everyone else that her life touched. This will be a short series in the things I am having to deal with as the bitch good grandson, who also happens to be unemployed, of the family.

I’m a stickler for good service. We all know that already.

I’m also getting tired of the lack of accountability that appears to exist within us currently. Nobody cares, nobody cares to care and nobody is there to make sure that anyone cares. It’s makes for very bad service.

Among the tasks requested of me today was to get my Grandmother to a Notary Republic to have a document signed authorizing digging of the plot for my Great Grandmother. While my aunt has POA for my Great Grandmother, they still required a next-of-kin signature to authorize the dig. I have no idea what happens if there is no next-of-kin, so don’t bother asking.

Of course, for said document to be signed and notarized, it had to be in the possession of my Grandmother. A fact that my aunt had called to take care prior to asking me to assist with the getting of the notarization.

2 hours later, still no documents. 2. Hours. Unbelievable.

So I called, since I had more important things to do besides sit around and wait for a fax machine to ring. First number I called I got voicemail, so I left a message requesting a call back. 2nd number I called I got a person and asked to speak to the person I need, but they were with another family or something. Fine I say, here is my number I say. Sooner than later I lie say because the oldsters window for this kind of thing was short because it was almost nap time. What? Grandma wanted me to tell them she was dead.

20 minutes later the fax machine rings and the documents I require print, followed shortly by a phone call by the person I was trying to get a hold of earlier. Everything clear as a bell, paper in hand, it was time to head to the bank to get the sucker notarized.

The bank is literally around the corner from the g’rents house. Short walk for me, shorter drive with my Grandmother in the car. I let her out at the curb and parked. By the time I rushed back over to help her into the bank this delightful young lady already has the door open welcoming my grandmother, _by name_ and telling her how nice it was to see her and all that. She then disappeared and my grandmother was again greated by name by one of the clerks behind the counter. It was about that time the person that was going to do the notarization was already alerted to my grandmother being there and the first greater whisked us, without delay, into his office.

The transaction proceeded smoothly and _free of charge_, we were thanked and Grandma joked with the girls, telling them to stay out of trouble to which they replied the same. I got the car and we left to run another errand.

They treated her like a queen and it was awesome. Ok, they have a fair amount of money at that bank, but they said they treated them the same way when they didn’t have that much there. It was really nice to see. And it’s one of the reasons my grandparents keep some money there.

It’s really not that hard. Remember someones name. Perform as expected. Do what you say you are going to do **when** you say you are going to do it.

I have quite a bit of work to do for the upcoming funeral yet. Plus I have been tagged as possible driver for the g’rents on the day of. I’ll be trying to keep it light here. If you want the good stuff, keep an eye on the twitter and know, that during all of this, there is a pretty good chance the following phrase will be going through my head.

“Screw patience. I’m going to kill someone”

By Don

Lead bottle washer at, host at and tech guru for the MotoringFile family of sites.

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