Y'all come on in!

Y'all come on in!

Monday, August 17, 2015

Forms, forms and more forms...

Seems like these days we have to fill out a form for everything that we do, expect to do or have already done. It doesn’t matter what we apply for, buy sell or trade, it’s got a form attached to it. Got to fill out a form to fish, to drive, to get married, to name a child, to get divorced and even for medical attention.

Heaven forbid if you forget to mention on any form that you took a vitamin pill and two aspirin that morning. It can land you in jail where you have to fill out another form to get into the cell and still another one to get out!

There are short forms and long forms. If you’re going to the City Hall for a permit to have a garage sale so that you can get rid of all those white elephant gifts you got for Christmas last year (and hope to goodness Great Aunt Molly really does have an appointment in Oklahoma City for new dentures), then you only have to give the minimum of information. Now if Great Aunt Molly comes home early and finds out that you’ve sold that lamp shaped like a mermaid, then you might have to fill out a form at the emergency room because she’s liable to shoot you. Don’t forget she has a license to carry a fire arm and she’s not afraid to use it.

Then there are the long forms that look more like an old time Sears catalog. Those are for when you want a loan to buy a house or a new car. You will need a wrist brace before you are finished and at least two dozen ink pens (and they must be black or blue so don’t take those purple and pink ones that the granddaughter gave you last year for Mother’s Day).

Last week I heard about a guy who went down to the beauty shop to get a hair cut. He had a job interview the next day and he already knew there would be forms after forms and that was just to get through the doors for the interview. If he got the job, he would be expected to fill out even more. His hair had gotten a bit long through the summer and he sure didn’t want it falling into his eyes. That would make a bad impression for sure.

So the first thing the lady hands him is a form—in the beauty shop! Honest, this is a true story, folks. She needed his name, SS number, marital status, eye color and who to call for an emergency.

I’m thinking I might have left before giving them that last item. After all, what was she planning to do? Nip off half an ear lobe?

He blushed scarlet when he reached the point where it asked, “Do you tan in the nude?”

The lady setting beside him noticed the look on his face and reported this story to me.

Anyway, he whispered, “Did you have to fill out this form to get a hair cut?”

“Years ago. They keep up with what colors I have and all that.”

“Colors? I only came in here to get a hair cut and they want to know about colors?” His eyes got big as silver dollars at that time.

That’s when the beautician rushed across the room and grabbed the clipboard. Seems she gave him the wrong form. The one he had was for the folks who wanted to use the tanning beds. The one he had to fill out only asked for his marital status and his name.

But I’ll but you dollars to cow patties that the next day when he had to fill out the forms for his job interview that they made a lot more sense than that one in the beauty shop!


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