Electric Line
I spent one hour standing in line to pay our electric bill. No kidding.
When the bill comes to our house, I have to figure out the best time to try to pay it. Usually early in the morning when they open at 8:15AM is the best time. Except when the guy doesn't come until 9:00, meaning I waited 45 minutes outside the door for him to show up. Duh. So much for that idea.
What I do now is cruise by in the morning and see if he's open. Or if there's a huge line on the sidewalk. Occasionally I luck out and spot only 10 people standing inside.
But, usually I resign myself and prepare for a good spell. I bring a book to read. The office is a small rental in the neighborhood, a very basic room with minimal furnishing. No seats to sit on. Standing room only.
This week, I went in the afternoon. Nowadays, everyone gets a number handwritten on a scrap piece of paper. They had progressed to #9. I was #30. Women stood on the left, men on the right. Outside, elderly men and women squatted on the ground. Inside, people all leaned against the cream colored tile.
A bunch of young guys in T-shirts and dark sunglasses barged in, obviously friends with the "Hassan" the fellow behind the counter. They chatted for a couple minutes. He sent them out to get change. A middle-aged man with #36 butted in and showed his number to Hassan. "Is it my time?" he asked. "No, we're on #26." The man was illiterate. Then, for some unknown reason, Hassan took #36's bill and processed him.
Maroc electric is on computer. But, the system was on the blink, and each client was taking longer than normal. The weather was extra hot, so people were sweating. I felt for the veiled women. A few old men dressed in white jellaba robes sat on the bare floor. Hassan peered out from the counter and asked, "Any elderly?" Then he took a chair and shoved it out to us. One man sat on it.
After an hour, we reached #29. Great! I was next. Nah. Some folks with #17 and #18 had left, only to return to claim their spot. One guy had about 4 bills in his hand. Each one took 5 minutes. The wait continued.
Finally, it was my turn, #30. It was 5:00 PM. I had been there over an hour. I handed Hassan exact change and my scrap piece of paper. The computer system went down. Blink. I began to pray... "please, please restore the system!" After another few minutes, the computer printer spit out my receipt. I was finished! Thank God!
When the bill comes to our house, I have to figure out the best time to try to pay it. Usually early in the morning when they open at 8:15AM is the best time. Except when the guy doesn't come until 9:00, meaning I waited 45 minutes outside the door for him to show up. Duh. So much for that idea.
What I do now is cruise by in the morning and see if he's open. Or if there's a huge line on the sidewalk. Occasionally I luck out and spot only 10 people standing inside.
But, usually I resign myself and prepare for a good spell. I bring a book to read. The office is a small rental in the neighborhood, a very basic room with minimal furnishing. No seats to sit on. Standing room only.
This week, I went in the afternoon. Nowadays, everyone gets a number handwritten on a scrap piece of paper. They had progressed to #9. I was #30. Women stood on the left, men on the right. Outside, elderly men and women squatted on the ground. Inside, people all leaned against the cream colored tile.
A bunch of young guys in T-shirts and dark sunglasses barged in, obviously friends with the "Hassan" the fellow behind the counter. They chatted for a couple minutes. He sent them out to get change. A middle-aged man with #36 butted in and showed his number to Hassan. "Is it my time?" he asked. "No, we're on #26." The man was illiterate. Then, for some unknown reason, Hassan took #36's bill and processed him.
Maroc electric is on computer. But, the system was on the blink, and each client was taking longer than normal. The weather was extra hot, so people were sweating. I felt for the veiled women. A few old men dressed in white jellaba robes sat on the bare floor. Hassan peered out from the counter and asked, "Any elderly?" Then he took a chair and shoved it out to us. One man sat on it.
After an hour, we reached #29. Great! I was next. Nah. Some folks with #17 and #18 had left, only to return to claim their spot. One guy had about 4 bills in his hand. Each one took 5 minutes. The wait continued.
Finally, it was my turn, #30. It was 5:00 PM. I had been there over an hour. I handed Hassan exact change and my scrap piece of paper. The computer system went down. Blink. I began to pray... "please, please restore the system!" After another few minutes, the computer printer spit out my receipt. I was finished! Thank God!
posted by Carl | 3:54 PM
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