How '007 Of Us

So, we raced around yesterday making copies and getting documents notarized, all in a mad rush to make it downtown in time to have our documents certified by the Secretary of State before they closed. Add to that another frantic trip to Kinkos for yet more copies, the millionth fine-toothed combing of the whole shebang, and back into the car for the last minute dash to the Fed Ex office that closes at 6:15 p.m.

Or so we thought.

......for the last minute dash to the Fed Ex office that actually closes at 5:45 p.m.

We arrived there at 5:47, only to see the clerk firmly locking the door. Anguish ensued as I thought about waiting another day, about rescheduling the courier I'd just booked for the next morning, about going home with that damn envelope in my hand again.

So, just like a sad puppy peering through a window, I smushed my nose up to the glass and knocked...a little begging later and the reluctant clerk told us to drop our precious package into the drop box outside. The drop box which clearly stated that the last collection had already been made. Back to the window I went. More groveling, and the clerk assured me that if I just dropped the package into the box, she'd collect it and get it out before she left. Since that sleeve of cardboard contained all of my tears, dreams, and sweat equity of the last five months, entrusting it's collection to a clerk anxious to go home wasn't high on my list.

Armed with no alternate choices, we dropped the package. And then got back into the car, drove around the parking lot, and parked partially hidden behind a giant SUV to spy on the box. And waited. Fifteen minutes passed before, like a heavenly apparition, the clerk unlocked the door, floated over to the drop box, and collected our package. Feeling better for our sleuthing success, we went for dinner. Ice cream has never tasted so good.