No passport despite the angels....

So, this week, I have been running all over fort meade to take care of little errands here and there.
Let me preface this by saying, there are 2, yes count 'em 2 people who have actually been nice to me at Ft Meade.

One is Chuck in transportation. I liked him for his friendly mustache. There is a difference in mustaches. Some ARE friendlier looking than others.

The second is a woman named Dimple. At tricare she fixed my hospital bill fiasco. Wherein Northside Hospital swore I didn't have Tricare, and they weren't even going to listen to me tell them about my insurance.
Dimple got on the phone and straightened them out.

Well, and I guess I could throw in the crazy-go-nuts woman at Family Health.
I say she's crazy-go-nuts based on the fact that her hair was wild as an albatross nest...AND it wasn't windy outside. That and, She proceeded to tell me of her long lists of husbands and how she's not good with keeping them. I lost count after the 4th husband.
But if someone can't maintain eye contact with you in a 20 minute conversation, it's not a far leap that she can't maintain a relationship.

So ok, there are 3 nice-ies at Ft. Meade thus far.

So Tuesday I get a jump start to try to at least feel like I'm getting things in order to FINALLY get to my husband.
 (Really, I feel like I have to run an triathalon to get to be with my own Husband! and let me tell you, I am so unathletic that if I am within a 10 mile radius, a volleyball will clunk me in the head. It's just fact)

There I am all smart, in my winter coat that makes me look and feel like the stay-puffed marshmellow man. It's stuffed full of feathers. And it proceeds to make me sweat even in subzero temperatures. I feel like I'm really accomplishing SOMETHING. I feel like the volleyball is coming towards my head, and I'm totally getting read to pull a soccer move and bounce it off my head.

I brave the flurries, sweating myself into the old building to talk to Transporation.
After I successfully arranged for my husband to have 500lbs of good shipped to him...I walk up the flight of stairs to room 205.
To ask a question about my official passport. One question. I just need ONE answer. I don't even have to pull up a seat.

It was 11:20am. I have over a half hour before lunch hour, right?

I see the sign on the door says OPEN. However the door is slightly ajar.
I knock.
I can see there's more than one cubicle in there. And by all rights, should just be able to sashay in. But I'm trying to be respectful. I'm new to this world. What do I know? Maybe you need to knock.

She swings the door open like I just woke the baby or something. She barks "Yeah?"
No "Hi, can I help you?"
No "What can I do ya for?"
Phrases like that are for loser wussies.
This was a situation that called for nothing but "Yeah?"

I am stunned. Not for the incredible rudeness, no I'm used to that at Ft. Meade now. What was so stunning was that before me, in her cubicle, along her desk on top of her cubicle and across the window ledge was a showcase of  angels.
At least 75. And that's estimating low. EASY. Angels busting out a variety of different poses. Some standing arms raised to the sky. Some with just one fist raised in defiance. Some watching over little kids, some sitting in rocking chairs, some sleeping against a rock. Baby angels, Old lady angels, Angels in kente cloth, Angels in flapper wear...

Growing more impatient with me as I gazed around at the bizarre collection, she said "YEAH?"
I stammered, "Uhm..well, I have some uhm...." (Is that a fat angel?) "questions about my official passport?"
She pursed her lips. Almost to nonverbally say "Are you KIDDING ME??? What do I Look like?"
She seethed out "Do you KNOW what time it is?"
I see the clock on the wall and say "11:20."
She licked her lip and said "Yeah. and I go to lunch at 11:30."
I had at least 10 minutes. I saracastically said  "Ok?"
 When what I really wanted to say was "Yeah, well I need this damn passport to get to my HUSBAND. I AM on more LIMITED time that you. All you have is a date with your sandwich!" But alas, this woman holds the power to my travel....

She said "So you're best bet is just call me some other time. Cause it's LUNCH."
She scribbles the phone number to her angel hut down on a sticky note and thrusts it at me.

As I backed out, all I could think was "For someone who surrounds herself with figurines of something that is supposed to represent benevolence, she sure is unpleasant."
I think, in all honesty, her hoagie wouldn't have spoiled if she took five minutes to answer my question.
She still had 10 minutes until official lunch time began for her.

When I talked to Mike I told him about the crazy lady angel. He said "Yeah! She was RUDE to me too!"
I said "What was up with all those angels? You know that's a sign of crazy to have that large of a collection on display at your work."
He said "Yeah. it is a sign of crazy."
I said "How do you think she brought all those in? A few at a time? Like carrying one in each hand? OR did she stuff her purse with them?"

Because I was wondering...How does a person get such a hefty display of anything into your place of work?
I like to think she stuffed her purse full of them....and carried one in each hand up the stairs to her office, bright and early in the morning...
While spending the rest of her day earning our tax dollars by arranging all those angels juuuuuust right.