Every year it’s the same old rigmarole.
Every year RTE writes to me and askes for proof that I’m still alive.
Normally I would ignore such a daft request but they clearly state that if I don’t provide proof then they’ll assume I’m dead and will stop my pension. Bastards.
I tried phoning them with a cheerful “hey – it’s me and I’m alive” but they wouldn’t accept that. Some fucking excuse about not being able to file a phone call. Apparently the choice is between signing their fucking letter or begging on the streets.
Now the problem with their letter is that I have to get my signature witnessed. They helpfully supply a list of types of people that are acceptable.
A member of the staff of RTE? Fuck that! I don’t know any staff in RTE and the way they are going there won’t be any staff in RTE anyway. Bang goes my excuse to call in on the Plank.
A Trustee of the RTE Superannuation Scheme? I don’t know any of them either. Anyway it’s them that’s looking for the proof, which is a bit weird. Maybe I should just send the form back to them and ask whoever reads it to sign it?
A Peace Commissioner? Who the fuck is he when he’s at home? I didn’t think they even existed any more.
Clergyman? Hahahahaha! There ain’t no priest, rabbi or minister around here who knows me from Adam.
A Bank Manager or Senior Bank Official? My own bank manager is too fucking far away and anyway I’m not in the mood for a protracted ear-bashing about my spending habits. All the others are holed up and trying to avoid the wrath of the mob. No one, but no one will admit to being a Bank Official these days, and quite right too.
Legal or Medical Practitioner? I’d ask Doc but the chancer would just see that as an excuse to sting me for a consultancy fee. The only time I’ll go near Doc is if I am seriously and potentially fatally ill or if he owes me a pint [which is most nights].
A member of the Garda Siochana? I asked Sheriff if he’d sign a scrap of paper to say I was still alive but he said he didn’t want to run the risk of perjuring himself. Bastard.
I had been carrying this scrap of paper around for a few weeks, hoping I would trip over one of the above mentioned. It didn’t happen.
In the end I came up with a cunning and devious little plan. What if I could get myself arrested and then persuade them to drop the charges? That way I’d be surrounded by the Boys in Blue and would have my pick of signature witnesses.
Unfortunately it didn’t go quite as planned.
I wonder if a District Court Judge will do even though his name isn’t on the list?
I hope so.
I’ll be meeting one this afternoon.