The Runaway MBA Train
That Time I Opened a Print Shop/Laundromat/Bail Bonds Store
I despise the business down the street
We have a print shop six minutes from our house, and they are awful enough that I went out and bought a printer.
I was resisting owning a printer for all the usual reasons:
- They break, more than is reasonable
- Cartridges cost an arm and a leg and an ear
- There’s never a good place to put one
- As a recent Medium article noted, it’s the one technology that has never improved and never will
Now I have the printer and I need to accomplish a simple task.
I’m working on a small project to get my husband Irish citizenship, and I’ve collected the relevant documents, which include various birth and death and marriage certificates for three generations.
Like Frodo with the Ring, I am SO close to my goal.
The last step, I am told, is to get a “certified or notarized copy of his passport.”
Easy-peasy, right?
Not so fast, Smarty-Pants.
The Bank Lady
I feel naive, but way back when I started this journey three business days ago, I breezily entered my bank and accosted the nearest notary. I mean, you can’t swing a dead cat in a bank without hitting a notary public, right?
I was filled with the confidence of an ignoramus.
“I need to get a bio page of a passport notarized. Can you do that?”
“We can’t notarize birth or death certificates, or passports.”
“But it’s only a color copy.”
“We aren’t allowed to.”
“Is that a bank thing, or a notary thing?” I asked, genuinely puzzled as my eyes glazed over at the boring dialogue. For the umpteenth time, I made a mental note to get a tattoo stating, NEVER TAKE A JOB IN A BANK. Meanwhile, Banker Lady was speaking:
“It’s a notary thing, but every state is different.”
Nifty, I thought, as I exited the bleak interior for the life-sustaining sunshine of the non-bank realm. I’ll just drive to Texas, which is only two and a half hours.
The Worst Print Shop on Planet Earth
I’d just come from the worst print shop in the Midwest, NOT. I can’t reveal their real name because, given their personalities, these buttheads would immediately sue me for defamation.
In fact, I shouldn’t even joke around but they probably don’t read Medium. NOT isn’t their real name, but it should be.
At NOT, they told me it was a federal crime to make a color copy of a passport.
Of course they did, but guess what NOT? I’m gonna do it anyway. I’m driving straight over to Kinkos downtown tomorrow and firing up the self-serve printer.
I won’t just be making one copy, HA! I’m making three.
Then I’m driving to the bail bonds office and getting them to notarize it.
But hold up, Miss Smarty-Pants — isn’t that a federal crime?
The Internet is My Obi-Wan Kenobi
I checked online and apparently the deal is this: you can get a notary — assuming you can find one in this godforsaken state who won’t run away — to verify the signature that’s attached to a statement, not the document.
What does this mean?
I’ll have to take my husband with me to the bail bonds place, where he’ll write a statement:
This document is a true and correct copy of my US Passport.
He’ll sign it, and Jimmy Bob McCallister, or whoever the bail bondsman is, will notarize it.
If that doesn’t happen, I dunno. I guess I’ll call Texas.
Okay, so I did all that and boy was it fun to make color copies! Then we tried the bail bonds place, which was closed. Big surprise, they don’t return phone calls (unless, I’m guessing, you need bail).
We randomly tried a notary at a title company, who refused to sign anything.
One thing is certain — whether he gets the citizenship or not — I hereby refuse henceforth and for all time to ever again set foot in NOT.
Starting My Own Print & Shipping Biz
NOT has several exasperating policies.
First, everything has to be a pdf. They are too cheap to buy whatever license they need for MS Word, so if you forget to convert it into a pdf, you are driving home.
It also has to be a certain kind of pdf, which my husband discovered one day when he came home empty-handed. I’m not sure what kind, but some other issue came up.
Second, they only take cash.
Third, they prefer small bills and exact change.
Fourth, they are unfriendly — big surprise.
We also need a laundromat around here. Why not combine the two? Judging by how crappy bail bondsmen are at returning phone calls, why not start one of those businesses, too? Seems lucrative and I know all the tricks from watching Midnight Run seven times and memorizing large parts of the dialogue.
My Laundromat will have roomy washers and spacious dryers for those hard-to-clean comforters, and a place you can make copies.
Forget about shipping — that’s too stressful. I’ll stick with copies and laundry and loans to felons.
If you don’t have cash, I’ll take a card. Unless you’ve been arrested, then I’ll need cash, bro.
For copies, I might have to charge a fee if you are only spending $2.00 but at least you’ll be able to use your debit card.
And maybe I’ll sell ice cream, with low-carb and sugar-free options.
I might get into a side hustle of fake IDs, though, since I’m so damned skilled at making multiple color copies of a passport-mwa-ha-ha-ha!!
Come get me, feds, I dare you.
Want an email heads-up for new articles? Click Me.
Want to join Medium? Click Me.
Jean Campbell recently started her first Substack newsletter to laser focus on getting her book, City of Lies: A Street Hustler’s Omaha Journey published.
