No, I do not shop at The Source, Part 2

You know how often the sequel is worse than the original? Keep reading!

In my previous entry I noted the swift action of my credit union on spotting fraudulent charges on my credit card. At the time I had just assumed someone had absconded with my credit card info using digital trickery. It was not until the following day that I went to pay for some groceries that I discovered that my wallet was no longer comfortably nestled in my left rear pocket as it always was. Uh oh. I put the grocery order on hold then returned home, searching for my wallet but knowing it would be futile. It had probably been 24 hours since it went missing.

I don’t know if it actually fell out of my pocket (seems unlikely) or was stealthily plucked away but suddenly I had no wallet, no credit card, no ATM card, no birth certificate, so SIN card, no ID, nothing. I was persona non grata.

I phoned Sue and bless ‘er heart, she volunteered to drive me to the credit union to get a new ATM card. We arrived 15 minutes before they closed, the next day being a Sunday. I explain my situation but the teller says that to get a new ATM card, I will need ID. All of which has been stolen. Well. But not to worry, I could still withdraw a small daily stipend by standing in line and getting good old-fashioned cash, just like people did back in the 1890s. How quaint.

What followed over the next few days was a series of circular checks where each piece of ID I needed to recover required some other piece of ID I needed to recover. But all was not lost–literally! I still had my paper birth certificate (the plastic-coated wallet-size version was in my, uh, wallet), so I had a starting point in recovering my identity. Monday morning and I headed bright ‘n early to Service Canada and presented my certificate, waiting to hear how long it would take to get a new Social Insurance card. “This birth certificate is invalid,” the woman behind the counter said, her lips twitching mysteriously. She explained that there was no registration number on the certificate and thus it was not valid. Little did I know that 44 years ago someone was screwing me over. I wasn’t even a month old. No wonder I’m so cynical. The woman behind the counter told me I could get a replacement certificate at Vital Statistics. She looked up the location and assured me it would be “fun” to go there. Government services and fun together? Cats and dogs, I say.

But I go.

Vital Statistics is in an office on ultra-trendy Robson Street downtown, hence the “fun” or so I assume. But you know, it’s just a street downtown on a Monday morning. It’s not like there’s a Mardi Gras parade with people flashing their bits and showering everyone with candy. So I go in and I’m told I can get a legit birth certificate in five business days and for free! But only if I hand over the invalid one. I reluctantly do so, giving up the only piece of paper that states who I am.

It turned out to only take four days for the replacement to arrive by mail. The newly-redesigned birth certificate (made over in 2008) came with a sheet listing its many improvements, one of which was a size designed to be inconvenient to fit in wallets and purses, to reduce loss or theft. I expected to see “Looking at you, dumbass” after that bullet point.

The tale of ID recovery took an unexpected twist midweek when I got a lumpy envelope in the mail. It was encased in a plastic Canada Post bag with a boilerplate apology for the condition of the envelope therein, saying it was being delivered in the state in which I found. I opened it up and there was my wallet, with my BC ID card taped on the side of it. Apparently the thief took the Visa card and tossed the rest on the ground and some sympathetic person dropped it into a mailbox. Yay! Thank you, mystery person who did this.

I went to the credit union, got my ATM card re-activated and today received my new Visa card, one day earlier than their estimate. I checked to make sure everything looked kosher and discovered I have enough Visa points to buy an iron. Woo! I already have an iron. I can also buy a Cineplex gift certificate that includes a pair of movie tickets, two regular drinks and a regular popcorn. i think that combo normally costs $300. It’s like buying six irons.

But for now I rest content that I no longer have to meticulously replace all of my ID. My wallet is now kept in a front pocket and any non-vital ID is kept safely tucked away here at home. I also will amend my previous judgment that “people suck” to “some people don’t suck.”

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