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Portland, Oregon, United States
Co-founder, co-editor of Gobshite Quarterly and Reprobate/GobQ Books

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Security

An errand yesterday at the Social Security office downtown. Was very apprehensive about this trip for some reason, expecting squalor and tedium and Byzantine office layouts – I remember the old social Security office in inner NE, near the house we lived in fifteen years ago. It was dismaying in a squalid way: old wooden chairs along the wall in a certain disarray, the waiting people disabled, older, whiter, swollen with diabetes, wrapped in bandages, confined to wheelchairs, or just ill; the minority poor with less obvious ailments, all needing far more than any office was offering. There was an undertone of common suffering, a small, palpable buzz of people who may not have seen each other before or for a while, but who could see & knew each others' conditions.

Yesterday's office was worn but clean, had airport-type security (minus the full-body scanner & taking off your shoes) with surveillance camera & monitor up in the corner of the ceiling. The wall facing the entrance was taken up with a huge TV screen with notices in many languages and a row of call-numbers for those waiting, who, by and large, were younger than I expected, and more of colour than not. Those who sat on the side-bench that ran the length of the waiting area - seats larger & softer, with better-angled backs - tended to be older and whiter; they sat with their backs to the wall, leaving the more obvious minorities under two sets of surveillance. The more obvious minorities sat in the pre-arranged, ordered rows of single plastic chairs facing the big TV, heads down, eyes on phones. The SoSec clerks sat on the other side of the room behind single, separate, (bullet-proof?) glass windows behind a half-glass walkway and wall, occasionally calling the next number. There were three armed guards. The room was silent.

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