Social Security Card

[Martin Hash]

I was going to teach a couple sections of computer science at the university. It was for fun but I still, it seemed, had to get a work permit. On campus, I walked over to Human Resources and filled out the application. It required identification and my social security number. I filled it out and handed over my driver’s license and passport.

The person at the desk took my stuff. She looked through it carefully. “You need you diver icense and you soso curty card,” she said.

“My what?”

“You soso curty card.”

“My social security card?”

“You soso curty card.”

“My social security number isn’t enough, you need that piece of paper I got when I was 8 years old, spindled up and stuck in my ear?” I asked incredulously.

“You no get paid wifout soso curty card,” she insisted.

I was aghast. “You keep the money, just give me the work permit. I start class in a week."

“Wa? I take money?”

“Yes. You can have the money, just give me the work permit.”

“Okay. I take money, but I need you soso curity card.”

She held out a blank form, explaining how I could go to the social security office, provide my driver’s license and birth certificate, wait two to four weeks for a new social security card, then reapply for a work permit.

Exasperated, I just stared at her.

“Don’t wook at me,” she ordered, “Wook at paper.”

“I suppose I could use my driver’s license and passport in place of a birth certificate?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“You mean the driver’s license and passport that I HAVE RIGHT HERE?”

But nooooooo. I ended up walking away with nothing but her business card.
Myungsik Chun
Technical Record Specialist
Human Resource Services
(208) 885-3728

At home, in my attic filled full of Boy Scout badges and grade school homework (I’m a packrat from way back), I looked and looked for my original social security card. No luck, but I did find the piece of paper my social security card was attached to! The one where you fold along the dotted line and tear off the card at the bottom.

“This thing has got to be a collector’s item”, I thought. “What better way to prove…”, I paused in my thinking. “Heck, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be proving. Somebody has got to fight the tyranny of bureaucracy – maybe me. Yeah, I’ll take this to the Supreme Court if I have to!” Then I calmed down and wondered if the tear-off won’t work, maybe she’ll take the baby bracelet I wore in the hospital with “Marty” on it.

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