I shared with you a few weeks ago that I became a recent casualty of
corporate restructuring. Since then, I have been busying myself with
projects, like redoing the basement as my creative man cave because a
dark specter loomed in the shadows. Yes, I’m talking about a trip to the
unemployment office (insert scary movie scream).
My apprehension about the unemployment office -- or the Division of
Employment Security, as it is now called -- stems from the fact that I
grew up in the 1970s, so my perception was shaped by television shows
and films from that era. You know, films like “Claudine” and “Mahogany”
and TV shows like “Good Times.”
I had visions of long lines filled with folks with big hair, vintage
clothing, somber expressions and winter wear. (For some reason, it was
always winter when they featured the unemployment office.) Oh, and let’s
not forget the evil unemployment representative who typically berated
those in line and always referred to them as “those people.”
There has been a historical stigma associated with being one of
“those people.” The unemployment rate in North Carolina in August was
9.7 percent, and like many of you I had followed similar numbers not
knowing that I would be part of the equation -- in short, one of “those
people.”
But I digress; back to my story.
A letter from the Employment Security office had arrived a few days
earlier. It included a colorful pamphlet that talked about depositing my
unemployment funds on a debit card. What!? So I was not going to get a
big “government check” that I would have to cash at one of those
cash-checking places next to the liquor store!?
The letter went on to say that I could also set up my account online,
have funds deposited to my checking account and report my job search
activities as well, all online. You mean I would not have to brave the
bitter, Southside Chicago winds as the “Theme from Mahogany” played,
while I stood in line among other weary, worn, displaced workers?
This may not be as bad as I thought, Jinx.
I went online this weekend to set up my account and report my job
search activities for the week. I was then given a prompt that my
account was on hold due to a pending ruling. I would have to call
customer service on Monday.
Monday morning arrived and I dialed the customer service number and
get a busy signal. I dialed off and on all morning. I watched “GMA”; got
a busy signal, “Live with Kelly and Michael”; got a busy signal, “Dr.
Phil”; got a busy signal, “The View”; got a busy signal, “The Chew”; got
a busy signal, and just when I thought I would exhaust the daytime
television lineup, sometime around 2:30 p.m., my call went through.
Hallelujah! But before I could celebrate, an automated voice told me
that all operators are busy (psyche) and that I should leave my number
and a representative would call me back within 4-7 minutes. I was like,
“right!”
I left my number and, to her credit, a nice representative, Ms. Lisa,
called me back within five minutes and walked me through step-by-step
what I needed to do to get my unemployment benefits started.
A couple of times I would interject about something that sounded
contradictory, but Ms. Lisa would jovially repeat, “Are you
listening?”(which was code for, “I cannot tell you directly because the
call could be monitored, but if you shut up and read between the lines I
can get you paid, fool.”) I would then smile, shut up, take copious
notes and follow her instructions to the letter.
Ms. Lisa made a daunting experience much more humane. And unlike Ms.
Ross in “Mahogany,” who went from the unemployment line to becoming an
international model, I am not sure how my story will pan out, especially
given my current waistline and rusty runway skills.
Honestly, I am unsure of the road ahead of me, but just in case there
are tollbooths along the way, I will have faith that my benefits angel
-- Ms. Lisa -- will ensure my debit card has the necessary funds to pay
the fees…smile.
Stay tuned.