Yesterday, I made the 2nd of three visits to RGD. Things were a bit mixed. As I now knew that the office I was dealing with did not start till 8:30am, I chilled for a while before heading out west. When I got to RGD, things started to unravel. The security guard manning the gate peered out of the guardhouse looking at me in my car; she didn’t move. I sat there a few moments. She peered again. I could see her mouth moving. Eventually, she came out through the gate. She explained that because my car was positioned to the right of the double gates, she didn’t think I wanted to enter. For a moment, I had a flash of how terrorist attacks start: presumably, he job doesn’t include telling people to not park idly in front of the gates. Anyway, I corrected her presumption and she opened the left hand portion of the gates. I suggested that a simple sign saying ‘Enter this side’ would be helpful. She didn’t thank me for my suggestion and gave me a good cut eye.
I parked, then walked boldly to the guard on the side of RGD where I’d started my process. She asked me my purpose–to collect my deed poll draft–and I told her and said I knew where to go. No! No there! “You must go to IRO! Through the double glass doors.” I dislike acronyms at the best of times. “IRO?” I asked. She explained: Island Records Office. Off I trotted, and sat with a few other people. A young man took my name. Soon, I heard behind me a soft female voice: “Jones…Jones”. The young man pointed to me. I went to the soft-spoken lady. “Not here. You must go to the office where you left the form.” As I had thought. A hurried person would have been fuming. Instead, I pondered: how much of this goes on each day? My trusted official came and brought my draft for me to review.
My naming issue is only one of several. My good wife has her own to deal with, and a hint of that surfaced in the draft. But, RGD-man and I finessed that. I now needed a few signatures and a JP or Notary’s witness and I could roll off to the Stamp Office to pay my $500 fee.
I asked RGD-man why the Stamp Office couldn’t have an agent assigned to them, to avoid the seemingly unnecessary journey for this next step of recording. He tried to explain that Tax Administration controlled the Stamp Office. So what? The agent would still be working as he or she should, just here instead of there. That’s a question I’m going to pose. I know part of the answer–inertia–and touched on it in my post, yesterday. Wherever I live, I’m going to need to make at least two trips, one of which is really not needed. But, patience prevails.
Anyway, I’ve my friendly JP lined up (and I read today that the Justice Minister wants 6000 more). Ready for the next step. Will I get to visit 111 Harbour Street, today?
For those into numerology, note the meaning of 111. 😊👏🏿