The Kureaucrat

Mrs. redridinghood feels like she’s living in an alternate reality right now. It is her opinion that Rikki should be miffed when haters/mongoose-truthers accuse him of being unreal, or non-existent, or a fig leaf of someone’s imagination. Mrs. r’s “real life” itself is hardly what you can call “real”. This week’s “real life” smells like a 1980s perfume: Poison.

Mrs. r has a long history of strange encounters with alien creatures known as “bureaucrats”. There was the mysterious case of the missing library book, which eventually worked its way up from the basement of library bureaucracy to the highest echelons of librarian-hood (the case, and the book, too). The highest hood of the librarians eventually relented and told Mrs. r, “We’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” This was when Mrs. r stood in the librarian’s office, “missing” book in hand, showing the librarian the stamped record of all the book’s ins and outs, and noting that the so-called “missing” book was not only not missing (because it was in then-Ms. r’s hand), but had been returned on time. For those too young to remember, library books used to have record cards in the front, back when computers weren’t real, either.

Mrs. r’s whole week has been filled with incidents like this, piled one on top of the other, like a stinking heap of Christian Dior eau de toilette. Don’t think you’ll be spared from hearing about each and every one of these incidents in the future. Mrs. r’s memory is long, and there’s limitless blogging space on the internet.

Meet the “kureaucrat”.

This particular creature insists on calling Mrs. r by a name that he has made up. It is not a real name, and does not even come close to being a real name, or a hippie-child name, or a new-age name, or even something “ethnic”. Let’s just say that if Mrs. r’s real name were “Jabberwocky”, he would change it to “Kabberwocky”.

Mrs. r normally wouldn’t care. If it were in conversation, Mrs. r might let this individual think he has met someone with a very unique name. He might ask others if they’d ever met this “Kabberwocky” person. Cue deer-in-the-headlights expressions.

However, the “kureaucrat” is standing between Mrs. r and something Mrs. r needs. This is not a library book, but registration for a course. Mrs. r is encountering a great deal of difficulty because she registered for the course using her full legal name, as required. The “kureaucrat” is insisting that Mrs. r provide her full legal name, not the “Kabberwocky” one, but the full, extended one which he has made up. Not only does he think Mrs. r is using “Kabberwocky” in error, he insists she must have a longer version of “Kabberwocky”, something like “Kabberwockyette”.

Soon Mrs. r will be having to provide proof of birth like our dear Rikki. Mrs. r does have a birth certificate of course, but that is a whole other story. Some day, dear reader, Mrs. r might share the story of how the registry office has come to use cloud computing to store its records, and how when the system crashed, there was no backup, and Mrs. r was trying to get the new plastic version of her record from that office, and how she learned that the records were transcribed 15 years ago, and Mrs. r’s father came to have a different surname than her own, and how his given name was also changed, and how his eyes also magically changed color on his driver’s licence, causing trouble when he went to renew it, and — no, not today. That’s a another tale for another time.

Meanwhile, Mrs. r has 30 days to write an exam, that so far has been quagged in a quagmire of not being able to prove she is either “Kabberwocky” or “Kabberwockyette”, neither of which were the name she used when she signed up. There is only one ace up Mrs. r’s sleeve, and it’s about to be pulled. The “kureaucrat’s” name is Bill. Kill. Bill.


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