Wherein Banana Republic elevates itself to an important government position

When I woke up this morning it was light outside. And that's how I knew it was going to be an Alexander kind of day.

I woke up about 5 minutes after I should have left for work. It took me five minutes to get dressed, dump my makeup and my toothbrush in my purse, and run out the door. I got to work about ten minutes late- not too bad, eh?- although I spent the next 15 minutes in the bathroom downstairs pinning back greasy hair and slicking on lip gloss in a bold attempt to look Professional. I settled for Presentable. ('Presentable' was a fun word to teach the Chinese students, by the way.)

I usually don't sleep late. Or sleep in. Or sleep, come to think of it, because even when I think I'm sleeping, Phillip is having conversations with the sleep-talking crazy version of me. But a few factors may have contributed to the hair my mother would be ashamed of. In reverse order:

1. The Stupid Freaking Firm. Can't put down book. Absolutely must know if Abby and Mitch screw the Mafia and the Feds.

2. Alex comes over and shows me this. Wine sprays out my nose and all over keyboard. Phillip has conniption fit.  Must clean up before divorce papers arrive. 

3.More Christmas cookies. I am now  Crazy Woman with Flour In Her Hair and Melted Chocolate On Her Face.

4. I went shopping last night. Major shopping. Christmas shopping for a Particular Someone who then ruined everything by getting out of nerdy Visual Basic class late and causing me to act like a shoplifter in Pacific Place while I raced to get to the car before he did. Spending money wears me out. Also, hilarity ensued at the downtown Banana Republic wherein Banana Republic recommended that I let Social Security know that I changed my last name because they, that holy database of Important Facts and Numbers, the wicked smart folks who run the Banana Republic, could not match my new name to my social security number and, had only I informed Social Security of my new last name, I would not find myself waiting for the entire administration of the Banana Republic to amend the situation. 

"How peculiar," said I, "that I have in my possession a Social Security card printed with my new last name! Surely this is a fluke. Surely Banana Republic keeps excellent records."

CLERK: Huh?

MAGGIE: Yeah. I changed my information, like, a YEAR ago. It's kind of required. I can go get my card, if you want.

CLERK: Uhhh

MAGGIE: Also, my marriage certificate is all crumpled up because the United States Postal Service is blind and could not read the "DO NOT BEND" I carefully wrote on the envelope when I mailed it off to Social Security to get a new card with a new name. Would you like to see my marriage certificate?

CLERK: Hmm. No, I don't think we need to do that-

MAGGIE: Right. See my driver's license? New name. A Chinese name. As you can see, I am not Chinese. But my husband is. It's his name. See? Do you know how long I sat at the DMV to acquire this driver's license? Did you know that some Asian political action committee kept calling me before the election asking for money? THEY got my name right.

CLERK: Hey, I'm half. That's cool.

MAGGIE: I know. Mixed babies are the cutest. I am so excited.

CLERK: Yeah, you guys'll have adorable kids.

MAGGIE: Flattery will earn you nothing, bucko. What'd the President say?

CLERK: Well, it'll take a few days to get sorted out in our system, but they finally matched your Social Security number to your old name and now they've changed your name, even though-

MAGGIE: You know, I think I'm just going to trust Social Security on this one and assume that Banana Republic is the entity with its collective head up its ass, even though I've spent untold numbers of dollars in this store since I got married and you guys should totally know my name by now. Mmkay?

And then I spent MORE money. Some of it at the Gap where, instead of a Banana Republic credit card, I gave the clerk a piece of receipt paper with my account number handwritten on it. She raised her eyebrows at me. She said she had to call Banana Republic to confirm, because, you know, hello credit card fraud. Also, did I know she was in law? She was in law. People in law, obviously, should not be connected to credit card fraud. She made me sign a little statement at the bottom of my receipt. The next time I walk into one of those stores I fully expect to see my picture posted behind the counter.