Er... What!?! Is A Kitchen Appliance that I Missed for the BY?

So, over the last couple of weeks, we here in the BY Universe have been trying ways to earn some extra cashola. Well, mainly the GC. My poor, poor contribution was getting an additional $2 off at Moe's one night. Damn. I've been trying to complete these medical surveys for cash, but they don't seem to want my opinion. (I don't know why?!? My opinion is pretty good, eh?)

Anyway, my contributions have been piddly... until today... in the size of one of my biweekly salary checks... er... one that I should already have....

So, around 3 this afternoon, I finish up with my procedures for the day. I decide to go to my mailbox and check it. (Editors note: this is a mailbox that I have had since Day 1 of EP fellowship, but somehow was not relayed to me. Seems I only realize it when I hadn't received my W-2 in March.) This was the second time I had checked it all year. As I opened the box, if virtually exploded with envelopes and crapola! Almost knocked my back to the other side of the wall. So I decide to sort through the stuff. Crap.. crapo... junk... Paystubs after paystubs... So I gather all the stub envelopes and head back to my office.

About 20minutes later, I am going through my desk, doing my best GC on Hormones imitation. Then I come to the paystub envelopes... "Throw them away" says the GC devil on my right shoulder... "Open them and check" says my hording angel says. (To those who know the Editor well, know that I have a serious problem with throwing stuff away. I think I still have the ticket to the Sting concert I saw in highschool... Wait, did I say that out loud? Hmmm... )

So I decide to open them. There's about 20. Stub.. stub... stub... stub.... stub...

stub...
stub...

stub... er... wait... that's blue... with a tamper resistant border... and a watermark... that's no stub.... that's a paycheck!!! WTF!!! I am getting a fever and a sweating; palpitations all over... Hmmm.... I wonder... is this my final check? Hmmm... where's the date? 7/10/08!?!?!? WTF!?!?!?!?!?! Where did that come from?? Is this some sort of a joke? This can't be real. Oh crap! I can see the GC staring at me in disbelief, steam fuming from her ears and another hormone induced rage: "You lost what!!!!!" I couldn't let the GC down. Not now! This is the $$$ of a kitchen appliance... Damn

So I got up. Actually jumped up a little too quickly, with all the palpitations and all, I got a little dizzy.... had to sit back down, lest I have another episode.... So in these situations, I can only do one thing: ask Kim. Kim is Dr Fitzgerald's secretary, and has been my defacto mom throughout this last year.

So what does she tell me to do? Go deposit it you dummy! Oh, yea... I could have figured it out. So I walk down to the Wachovia bank branch in the hospital. (Yes, there is an actual branch in the hospital. They really watch-ova-ya... That should be there catchphrase....) As I am scurrying down to the bank, I can only think of the steaming GC... Tensions are starting to rise... you can only figure out what is coming...

I get down to the bank, and hustle into line.... Next please.... Yes I'm an idiot doctor cardiologist who is leaving and I didn't cash this check last year, can you help? Poor girl... she didn't know what hit her. She looks at me as I stuff the check in her face. See see see... paycheck... She looks at it, sees the real deal... OOOOHHH! (you are an idiot!!!). Can you help me please? Just before I could yammer on about moving, kitchens, babies, and the GC, she goes to talk to her manager. She leaves the booth and goes across the open lobby to what I thought was the receptionist, to discuss my case. I can overhear them... "Hmmm... does he bank here?" YES, YES I DO!!! GIVE ME SOME LOVE!!! Across the lobby.... then she and I proceed to discuss the entire situation in front of everyone else in the bank. I didn't care... I just wanted the $$$!!! After all this, she says that they can't help us. I have to go to payroll and probably get one re-issued. Crap, payroll, where's that? Oh boy

So I run back to the office... 4 pm... Kim, where's payroll? She looks.... I jump on the computer, find the number, and dial it before she gets back to me. (I'm in prime tiptop efficiency now... The fear of the GC has gotten me!) Damn, busy... call this other number or leave a message.... I do both, except now my efficiency has not made it to my use of english language.... After a 2 minute yammering message (but still no mention of babies, kitchen, or the green machine) I hang up. I call the other number and get a live human being. Whew!

I recount the whole gory detailed story to this new poor lady. Hmm, she says, let me talk to my manager and I'll call you back. What! Damn.... So I wait. Seconds feel like eons... like sands through the hourglass, so are the damned days of my life!!! 4:20, phone rings... it's my boss... hey, dude, can't chitchat now, waiting for an important call... -click- ooops, hope I don't get fired... hee hee

4:30... Phone: it's the lady... you have 2 options: 1) bring the check by here and we can reissue you a new one or 2) use the interoffice mail and we'll get it to you that way. No choice... have to go with option 1. Where's your office (thinking it was somewhere in the building)? Oh no, silly rabbit... It's freaking down by where the GC works! and they close at 5!!! Frak!!! I am half jotting down directions, half looking it up on google maps, and the other half having no idea where i'm going... (yes i know that's 3 halves... but give me some literary license here)...

I'm off... grab my white coat (who know why? adds to the whole idiot doctor thing..) and race off to my car....

Get to my car 4:40... this isn't happening to me... i try the GC... thankfully she doesn't answer... that convo could have easily tripped up my flow... I steam out of the parking deck and point my car leftward... by this time I have pulled out my phone and have goole maps with my exact gps location (damn what an awesome application!!!) So I'm driving through W-S with my phone on my right hand constantly updating my location. I'm cruisin... with maybe some parts of the drive focused a bit too much on my phone... but no one will be hurt in the writing of this blog!

Somehow I pull into the parking lot of the payroll department. I have no idea how I got there or where I am! 4:48!!!! Holy crap! This might actually work!

I run up the stairs and into the building. 4th floor! Damn... elevators.... I press the up button and jump in.... ahhhhh... the soothing sounds of Muzak... is that Sting??? Nah!

Door opens... payroll... I come to the office, and by now the energy level and flow is full bore... Hello, I'm the idiot who didn't cash their payroll check. Can I get some assistance?!? Two ladies come over to help... The yammer couldn't be held any longer... yes... I was about to throw away these stubs, and then I saw this check, and I'm moving tomorrow... renovating a kitchen with $$$$ flying out of my pockets (oops, just lost another $20)... and, oh, did I mention I'm going to be a father? One chuckleheads witty response was "you know you're not supposed to throw away checks now?" Gee, thanks. Can't you see me yammering here!

The other, more helpful lady says that there is noone around now to sign a new check, so can she forward me a new one later. Er? what? It's not closing time missy! I ask, well, are you sure there is no one around to sign a new one for me... i'm leaving tomorrow... hee hee. Let me go ask...

She comes back... 4:55.... my manager wants to see you.... uh oh...Is this where the whole thing comes unraveled? So I go to the managers office. Hi sir... you see... there is no one here, being 10 till 5 and all, to sign your check. She said this with some attitude, like what was I thinking coming here and trying to get something done before quitting time.

(I almost flipped out on her attitude... Seriously, this freaking place has hours of operation right?!?!? You're not open until 4:55 right!?!?! It says 5, so damn well somebody should be here! I'm a freaking doctor who has to answer to your crazy whinning questions at all hours of the day, but do I say: umm.. sorry miss, but I can't put in your pacemaker today, being 10 to 5 and all... we'll just have to do it tomorrow... maybe your complete heart block will fix itself overnight!)

As I was about to launch into the above hearty insults, something got the better of me. This lady is in control of your $$$ here, and through the GC, my manhood as well... Maybe I should just relent. Damn... All that work and formula-1 car driving to give some witch my address. Damn. So I did, and then I left.

Hmmm... how does this stuff happen to me? Actually if I really listened to the GC we would never have this bonus paycheck, right?

(Let's not dwell on the fact that I should have already had it...)