Nearly Comatose, Val Absorbs Enough Details to Bore You, Too. Because She's a Giver Like That.

I had been dreading Tuesday's financial appointment since the previous Friday, when the office manager called to demand request our appearance. Seems there's some formality of an annual review, to see if we want to change anything about our investments. We do not. Yet still, we're held hostage for an hour. Exactly.

The appointment was for 1:30, which cut into my prime Diet-Coke-drinking time. Hick insisted that we leave home at 12:30, because we had to drop off T-Hoe (don't get me started, I tell you!) at Mick the Mechanic's shop. I questioned the early departure, since it's only about 20 minutes from home to the Financial Shop.

"Well, it will take you ten extra minutes before you're ready to go out the door. And then I'll have to go in and give Mick the key. We don't want to be late."

"I don't want to be early, either! I hate going there. We've been early before, and have to sit out front until our appointment time."

"It's fine, Val. I don't see why you get all worked up over these things."

"I hate a change in my routine! I hate sitting there for an hour, when we could be done in ten minutes. It's like they have to make us sit there to bill us for that hour. I want to say, 'Bill all you want, but let's get this done so I can get out of here!'"

"It doesn't hurt you to sit and talk."

"I don't want to talk! All you do is talk about your collector junk. That's not why we're there! We look at the printout, sign to take out my money, escape! Conversation isn't necessary."

Of course Hick disagreed, because Hick is a talker. Mick must have been occupied, because Hick came right back out after dropping off the key. I was barely seated in SilverRedO when he returned. Off we went, way early.

"I was planning on you taking me by Casey's for some scratchers afterward, but you can do it before, since we're so early."

Little did we know that we were about to encounter tree-trimmers blocking one road with STOP and SLOW sign-holders. Then a WRECK being cleaned up at the four-way stop over by the furniture store where we bought The Pony's gaming couch.

"Great! How do people even have a wreck here? They're all STOPPED!"

"I guess somebody DIDN'T stop, Val. It's almost clear. See? They're sweeping up the glass. The car is already on the truck."

I accomplished my scratcher mission, and we were STILL ten minutes early for our appointment.

"Let's sit out here. SilverRedO isn't all that comfortable, but it's better than sitting inside. Look! There goes our guy now. Where did HE come from? There's nothing across the street for him to go to."

"Well, that's his truck over there. So I guess maybe he's coming back from lunch. We might as well go in."

"Why? He won't call us back for another ten minutes. He'll have to go to the bathroom. Check his phone calls. Are we even going to talk to him? I thought his daughter was taking over his business."

"I don't know who we'll talk to. Let's go."

"Let's wait."

Hick would not. We went inside, and sat down in the outer office. Hick grabbed the first chair, and got to face the office manager during her small talk. I had to turn my head sideways. Of course we didn't get sent right back. At 1:27 we were ushered in.

Hick and Finny the Financial Guy started talking about GUNS. Seriously. Why is this allowed? Finny's Girl joined us, and sat across from me. She shoved the printouts across the table, and I looked them over. Hick and Finny droned on. I acted like a spoiled elderly brat. I had nothing to contribute. I was about to lose consciousness from boredom. If I'd brought a pen in with me, I'd have jabbed it into my thigh to stay alert.

Oh. My. Gosh. We had to chat about cruises and booze in Scope bottles and France trips and European bathrooms and airport TSA searches and tractors and lawnmowers severing sewer vent pipes...

FINALLY, at 1:50, we started the actual financial talk. Nothing new. Hick and I are satisfied with our plan. He takes monthly money from his account. I do not take it from mine, drawing a teacher retirement instead. But here's the thing. Every year, I have to take a certain amount of money out of one account, because it was my mom's that was an IRA, perhaps. I know nothing about this stuff. I'm a technology simpleton and a financial idiot.

Anyhoo...it's not like I can pick up the check there at the office. It has to be mailed after the transactions are made. No choice. I guess it's a corporate thing. Anyhoo...every year I stress about whether that check will make it to my hands without some mailbox thief grabbing it first. But THIS time, Finny's Girl said they could deposit it directly in our account. All she needed was a voided check to set it up.

Of course I'd left my purse in SilverRedO, because I never need it here at the Financial Shop. Hick went out to get it for me. While I was signing the paperwork, Finny said that one of my accounts had some cash on hand. Did I want to reinvest that, or have him cut a check. SHEESH! I didn't know there were going to be questions!

I asked Hick's opinion, and he said, "Might as well take it, with Christmas coming up." Even though I put money back every week for Christmas, and I'm pretty sure what he meant was "With my need for a new utility trailer to replace the one that we lost." DON'T GET ME STARTED!

Anyhoo...that withdrawal was also set up to be direct-deposited. So we have some extra money coming in that we don't really need, although I'm sure Hick will find a use for it. As we got up to leave, I checked the clock. It was 2:27. Exactly one hour. Funny how that worked out, huh?

If you thought this was boring to read...YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!