so i went to this strange triangular government building today, had to ask how to find th elevator to get to the second floor. after winding my way around through a rabbit warren of cubicles i pushed the button and got into the faux wood paneled box and rode up to the second floor, believe me, if i could have found the stairs i would have taken them. now i understand why most elevators are paneled with reflective type material, makes them seem bigger... i'm not claustrophobic by any means, but as i gazed up at the wood grate covering the lights i couldn't help but thinking how dreary it would be to work in the building and take such an oppressive elevator to my office each morning.
once i arrived on the second floor i encountered another cubicle forest. luckily the division i wanted was straight ahead of me. i walked up to the little window and set my keys on the narrow counter, the idea that the window would be necessary seemed sort of silly, the walls of the cubicles were standard Office Space height and i could have easily lean over them to gaze creepily down at any one of the people looking intently (but leisurely, i must say) into their monitors. so maybe the little window was necessary for their nerves... i couldn't say, having never had a comfortable government office job, and the part of me that sort of secretly covets the comfortable government office job had to fight the urge to lear over the top of the cubicle wall about a foot down from the window until i was noticed and escorted out...
but i did not do this, i also did not ring the bell provided, having worked at other, less comfortable, jobs that provide a bell i know how the sound of it can bring on the most terrible feeling of dread and loathing for the ringer of said bell. so i did not right it, but waited patiently to be noticed and helped, and i didn't have to wait long, an efficient government worker soon got up from her comfortable chair and asked me how she could help me, i like to think her response was so efficient precisely because i refrained from the temptation of the bell.
"Hello, what can I do for you?" she said with a slight quizzical glance at my hair, which is cherry cola red with asymmetrical bangs, at the moment. I have notice that people do this, it is the bangs. they spend an inordinate amount of time trying to decide, i theorize at least, if the asymmetry of my fringe is purposeful, or the result of a self given cut attempted while in some state of inebriation. its an entertaining mental process to observe.
"I need to get a 'resale licence'...?" i say with a question in my voice, completely unsure if this is the term, or the first step, or i know not what. i have no idea what i'm doing, i just know i need to attain some sort of licence, permit, registration or something to be a business. i mean, i'm sure there is something that must be done, paper work wise, before i can own a business, right? i can't just declare myself in business, or can i...
"Do you mean a ____?" i have no idea what she called it, but i assume that she, comfortable and competent government employee in the state department of revenue and taxes or some such something, knows more than me. i just sew.
so i say "uh... yeah." and she looks at me again, then hands me the form.
"Just fill this out, you can either do it here or bring it back, and there is a $60 filing fee." then she must have sensed my complete lack of knowing what i was about and took pity on me. she then said in a kinder, more candid voice "There are more comfortable chairs and a table around the corner there," with a smile.
i nodded, and took the form and the pen-taped-to-giant-flower that was proffered with the form and went around the corner. what met my troubled gaze instantly made me feel better. it was a small triangular alcove, in the strange triangular building, that had a large cement wall on the left, the cubicles behind me and ahead of me was a surprisingly well designed view off a balcony into the central triangular space of the three story building. stuck back in this alcove were a few waiting room style arm chairs and a small, round, white table with four chairs set round it, all molded, rounded, white plastic with golden yellow seats, reminded me of part of the set from 2001, but in a cheery, eggy, 1970s-kitchen kind of way. i was sure these pieces of furniture had been in government use since before i was born, before the cubicles went up. it made me instantly more comfortable, and i sat down, gazed off the balcony once more and marveled at the central area it overlooked, one does not expect airy and bright triangles from one's government office buildings, one would be much more likely to anticipate squares and low ceilings...
i inspected the form more closely, i had all the information i need to fill it out... but was this really all i needed? fill out one, fairly straightforward, one page form and then i'd be a business? there was the place for my name, the name i'd be doing business under, the type of business... but that was pretty much it. i guess thats all you really need for a basic hobby business like mine. fill out this little form so you can register, get a business bank account, and send off your sales taxes... and thats it? why haven't i been a business before?
i finished and returned to the window with completed form, she looked over it with me, for which i was thankful, i wrote a check for the fee and she said i would be getting a call in a few days and that was it. i said my thanks and wandered back to the elevator, slightly dazed by the relative ease of the thing. the elevator ride down didn't feel nearly as dismal, and as i pushed my way out the doors of the triangular building i laughed a bit to myself, i am a business now!
