UPS Lost My Passport

19 Apr UPS Lost My Passport

So remember that TV show I jokingly said that Channing in the City needed? Wednesday was nothing but material for this show that I think my friend and I are going to write (be the change you want to see, right?). I openly cried in the street, I hugged strangers and legit ran three blocks–I’m not going to lie though, I’m pretty proud I didn’t get winded. Three city blocks is, basically, the equivalent of Africa.

Wait. Let me just start from the beginning.

I was scheduled to be on a plane to Bermuda Thursday. Yeah, that didn’t happen. My mom mailed me my passport last week and it never showed up (UPS SUCKS). Because the UPS Store that she mailed it from has such great customer service (NOT!), it was never marked as sensitive and the lady who handled it was basically of no assistance, I was freaking out.

I went to the British consulate, nope, they’re were of no help. I couldn’t get in front of the people in the Customs office until April 24th. The passport office closed at three. Every time I reported this to my mom, crying, she’d say don’t cry. Don’t get upset, be encouraged. She drove to the UPS Hub where I’m from to see if it was still there. Nope. Not in Kentucky where all the lost and misshandled packages go, either.

So now, I’m like, I need a plan. Maybe someone could take my spot. My co-workers–all amazing women who don’t take no for an answer–wouldn’t let me give up. I literally ran out of the office at the suggestion of one, in search of a man named Rickey who apparently, could make all of my passport woes disappear.

I get to said place, no Rickey. I will not cry, I tell myself, not yet, I will not cry. In Rickey’s place, was the owner David. He tells me not to get all weepy on him, that he can get me a passport but I won’t make the 2:20pm flight I was schedule to be on the next day. If I can get a later flight, he can get me a passport.

I get all of my forms in. The PR girl didn’t shoot me, she was relatively calm and told me that she would change my flight to Friday. Once I get the confirmation, David sends me to the post office to get stamps on papers and pay more money or something and tells me he would wait for me so I can get everything in that night.

Wouldn’t you know it, the post office’s passport line that I ran 3 blocks to get in before they closed in an hour, had like 5 people in it, all needing passports i.e take all dang day. I whip out my charger–I told you I take it everywhere–and charge my phone while I wait so I can call my mom.

God bless this woman. She didn’t let me get upset, she patiently reminded me how blessed I am that so many people were willing to help me, and though one idiot woman named Donna at the Harrisburg UPS store on Linglestown Road (don’t go there, she loses passports) didn’t do all she could do to help me, it didn’t matter. Clearly God would make a way. And he did. But not without me finally breaking down and crying in the street.

After I got to the front of the passport line, I think to call David. He told me that he would wait but I have no idea what time they close and at this point it was well after 8. I was just thankful the post office man didn’t stop taking people at 8 when they closed because I would have been out of luck. When I call David to make sure he knows I’m on my way, and appreciate him waiting, Carlos, on the other end of the phone, tells me that the store has closed, but gives me the store’s number. No answer.

I ran all the way back to 360 Lexington clutching my papers and holding back tears. I’m so close, Lord, I’m so close. Carlos calls me back and says that David wants me to call him. At the same time I get to the store, and the lights are off. I’m searching for a pen to write down David’s number, and he pulls up in front of me at the store.

Let I tell you. I. Lost. It. David remembered what he told me and came back to open the store to take my papers. He came back. Yall. “You shouldn’t ever make a pretty girl wait,” David joked while I cried.

All around us, there are shining examples of God’s grace and favor, they aren’t always this big, but I guarantee you, they are there. My life in New York, shoot the fact that I’m in New York, is a testament to that. But I must say, I am thankful my mama knows Jesus.

Lord knows, the power of praying woman. Now, yall pray for me as I board this flight. My next post will be #inBermuda.