Her name is Pamela Williams.
His story begins on a cold winter’s day in early January, the kind of day you wish you could stay at home, sipping cups of hot chocolate and just kicking back. However, that cold January day was certainly not going to be like that. It was the day of Pamela and Jason’s five-year-old son’s doctor’s appointment.
The pediatric allergy specialist the Williams family had been instructed to see was located near Manhattan. The query went well. They left the office satisfied, but with some reservations about whether or not to continue with Johnny’s regiment of prescription drugs for rashes.
Being so close to Jason’s business partners gave them a good reason to continue their adventure in Manhattan’s business district. They parked in a city lot and started the long, cold walk to the man’s office. Pamela and Johnny marveled at the diverse characters that made up the hordes of crowds on the catwalks. As exciting as it was, it left them with an unusual feeling of chaos and disorder.
Jason, acting as guide, seemed to be in control. He deftly led Pamela and Johnny through the maze of humanity. Finally they reached the building of their destination. He goes up the elevator, down the hall, through the security doors. They had finally made it.
While Jason consulted with the gentleman in the office, Pamela busied herself in the anteroom talking to Johnny. Everything seemed to be going quite nicely.
It was late by the time the trio left the gray office building. As impossible as it seemed, the stark reality was that the crowds on the streets and sidewalks of Manhattan had at least doubled. Stay together, stay together, Pamela thought as her panic began to build.
Pamela and Johnny half ran, half walked to keep up with Jason’s fast pace. Pamela gripped Johnny’s hand tight. The crowds made it impossible to walk in a single file all the time, but they kept an eye out for each other. At last, they reached the busy post office. Together they entered. Together they went down the steps to the mailboxes. Jason took the key from him, opened the box, and retrieved the mail. They prepared for another encounter with the mad rush of the human mass.
Walking out of the building, Pamela recognized a certain uncomfortable lightness. Something wasn’t right. Pamela instinctively reached for her purse. She wasn’t there!
“Where is my wallet?” Pamela’s voice took on an artificial high pitch. She quickly rummaged through the multi-bag she’d brought lunch in. No wallet!
As the masses passed by, Pamela felt sweat break out and panic rise. Jason’s face reflected emotions.
They retraced their steps. No, post office security had no idea about a lost wallet. No sign of him on the floor, or on the ledge. No wallet anywhere. Crowds poured out in an endless stream.
Suddenly, it registered in Pamela’s mind! She had left her wallet-IN HER HUSBAND’S ASSOCIATE OFFICE of hers! Pamela’s body heat dropped a degree. Yeah, she was pretty sure… she had left her bag on the floor next to her chair while she handed out lunch to Johnny… UNLESS… Pamela knew that she had accompanied Johnny a few times to… THE BATHROOM!
Quickly, they returned to the office building. The entrance was closed. No sign of any security guard. However, Pamela was sure. Her bag was there, hopefully innocently sitting on the floor of the fifth floor office lobby. The only thing gnawing at her brain was the thought that she maybe, just maybe, she had left him in the ladies’ room, accessible to anyone…
Pamela pushed the unpleasant thought away. They moved through the crowd, pausing for a few moments to put a particular credit card on hold. The rest would have to wait. Pamela wasn’t sure what credit cards she had in her wallet, and besides, she had a feeling, albeit a shaky one, that everything would be all right in the morning.
They traveled home, making light conversation and warily avoiding the approaching fear.
That night honestly passed without incident.
The next morning, Pamela eagerly anticipated the happy news of the discovery of a lone wallet on the floor of her husband’s partner’s office. Unfortunately, joy never came. In her place, a terrible feeling of intense fear gripped her heart.
“He didn’t find it? Are you sure? Did he look everywhere for it?”
Yes, apparently it had. Persuading him to go inside and search the ladies’ room hadn’t been too successful, but Jason had at least recruited a woman to investigate. The results: NULL! NOTHING!
Pamela felt like fainting at that moment. There, in the pockets of her wallet, were credit cards, her passport, her green card, her birth certificate (since she needed it to travel abroad she hadn’t had the opportunity to keep them, how irresponsible, she told herself). ). now) her checkbook, her health insurance card, her social security card, her children’s social security cards… Pamela’s head took on a very severe pain shape.
The phone calls began.
“Yes, cancel,” Pamela heard herself telling customer service for each of the countless credit cards she thought were lost. The strange thing about her questions about whether recent purchases of hers had been recorded was that she was repeatedly told no. Why, she thought, why wouldn’t a thief use an irresistible credit card? She knew that a lost credit card in the hands of an unscrupulous character was like candy in the hands of a child. The same applied to her checking account. No recent transactions. Strange…
Then he noticed Pamela.
All of his ‘I’ was in that pocket. Pamela envisioned her Canadian passport, her social security card, her many forms of identification dancing mockingly before her eyes. What a fool she had been to go around in full gear when others lock up documents like these!
As Pamela made the calls to the different agencies involved with the identity theft, her mind played real-life videos of a vile terrorist walking the streets in the guise of a woman with a very Anglo-sounding name.
Pamela anxiously tried to file a police report about her lost (or, gul, stolen) wallet. It became apparent that a police report would require an in-person visit to the nearest police station to her loss. Getting back to Manhattan was not going to be easy.
And as the gravity of the situation gripped Pamela, she realized that getting a replacement Social Security card meant presenting authorities with a form of identification, such as a license, birth certificate, green card, passport . ..and that getting a replacement for the myriad other documents she had lost (or-gulp-been stolen) involved presenting… the same various forms of identification. Pamela got lost in a sea, fighting for lifebuoys that weren’t there!
Suddenly, it hit Pamela like a ton of bricks. She was not an entity! A nobody! Without the documents that prove her existence, Pamela Williams officially does not exist. It was a thought that almost made me lose control. Suddenly, she wasn’t supposed to drive, she wasn’t allowed to leave the country… What if her parents needed her in Montreal? What if there was an emergency? And yes?…
Pamela’s mind refused to wander any further. She frantically set to work to obtain a birth certificate. That, she thought to herself, would be the start of a passport, a US green card, a social security card, a license… Would the list finally end?
It seemed like all the apps required a fee as well. A substantial one at that.
When the fee schedule caught Jason’s attention, he concluded that they should wait, just a little longer. Maybe the wallet still turned up in the office. Maybe someone had found it and would still report it. No one had used the credit cards, no one had tried to withdraw money from the bank…
It was a glimmer of hope, but faint in light of the fact that Pamela now had nightmares of a shadowy, clandestine figure with his identity making her (or could it be him?) sinister rounds in the dingy places of nightclubs where other terrorists They meet to conspire.
Pamela put off applying for a green card for a short time. However, her task of reclaiming her Canadian birthright continued. Enlisting the help of her former teacher, who was now the principal of the school she had attended, she managed to receive a letter stating that she was Pamela Williams, known as such for x number of years. The precious letter was waiting on Pamela’s dining room table along with the many other applications she had acquired. she waited. For the time being.
Life took a different shape. It evolved around the Pamela situation. She would wake up in the morning with the fear of having problems with her identity. She feels that the children go to school with the same fear. While she did the laundry, Pamela dreamed of being rescued by a hero who had located her wallet. And while she shopped, she decided to live in the shadow of an alien who had her precious documents. Although life was dancing happily around her in the form of health and family life, she was completely missing the beat. Not only, it seemed, had Pamela’s identity documents been taken from her, but with them, her inner happiness had been taken from her.
Life went on. One morning, when Pamela was ready to submit the application that would be the catalyst for others once she was processed (her birth certificate of hers), she picked up the ringing phone.
“Hello. “
“Pamela?” Jason sounded more cheerful than usual.
“Yes, how are you?” Pamela replied in the monotone that she had recently taken over her voice.
“I have good news,” he said.
“Good news? What is it?” she asked.
“Guess,” he said.
“Guess? I can’t guess right now,” he said. “I’m so busy, what’s up?”
“Just guess,” she pressed. What would be good news now?”
“Who won the playoffs? I really don’t have time for games right now. What’s up?”
“It’s not about games,” Jason said. “It’s about something you lost.”
There was a long silence while Pamela paused to digest his insistence.
In a very low voice, almost a whisper, he said, “My wallet? Has anyone found my wallet?”
“They found him in the office. Sitting there, Pamela.”
“Wow,” he said softly. “They really found it. Thank God! But, I don’t understand. Why did it take three whole weeks to discover my wallet lying in the corner of the apartment?”
There was silence from the other end.
“Wow!” she kept repeating. “I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”
Pamela placed the receiver in its holder and sat down. It had been three long weeks since she had disappeared her purse. Three weeks filled with apprehension and dread. Pamela wanted to dance, celebrate, sing. Instead, she sat thoughtful and simply basked in the new relief from her.
In fact, life has taken a refreshing new wave. Since that heavy moment in Pamela’s life, she has learned to be much more careful with her personal information. Her passport and her documentation are kept under lock and key. Credit cards and the Internet are treated with reverence. She and even she added identity theft coverage to her NJ homeowners insurance policy.
The incidents in relation to the landscape of life are nothing short of astounding. Small but important changes are needed to acquire the priceless gift of peace of mind.