Lakewood Vacation

If you’d ever like to see a very real and horribly raw cross-section of humanity, head to the lazy river at Elitches, or better yet – an insurance licensing class. I was fortunate enough to have a two-day vacation last week in scenic Lakewood, CO completing some pre-licensing education for my Property & Casualty designation. After a wild goose chase that led me onto virtually every highway in the state, courtesy of MapQuest, I arrived at my destination with just enough time to spare for a watered-down gas station coffee and $52 fill-up.

Imagine my surprise to find Courtney (having arrived early) with her notepad already out, sitting in the front row, wearing the exact same outfit as me. She was a real doll to save me a middle seat, which I had to twist and contort my body to get into in the interest of not spilling my overweight neighbor’s Venti Carmel Frappucino all over her ample bosom.

The morning started off nicely – I was learning things and taking copious notes with a really neat pen. I couldn’t help but notice that the gal directly in front of me loved snacking; the sound of the spoon meticulously scraping the sides of the Activia carton (ACTIVIAAAA!) was a bit distracting, but no matter; my penmanship was exquisite and my twin and I were quickly becoming the teacher’s pets.

Then something disturbing happened on our first break. We had 10 minutes to make phone calls, stretch, and/or use the facilities. Like a herd of wild wildebeest, the women in the class flocked to the bathroom adjacent to the classroom, forming a line that snaked into the hallway. LET ME BE CLEAR: There is no anticipation more excruciating than waiting to see who comes out of the bathroom stall you are about to enter, and there is nothing more distressing than the previous occupant telling you in an apologetic and panicked voice that “it’s not flushing”. Choking back tears, I wiped the seat down and vowed never to put myself through this again, and subsequently climbed the stairs to the fourth floor on every other restroom break. Why more people in the class didn’t use bathrooms on other floors is beyond me and is likely indicative of the passing rate on the exam.

The staleness of the classroom grew exponentially with each passing hour, and it was indescribably refreshing when the teacher opened the window, even with a group of tweens chain-smoking directly outside. The man in front of me had a tattoo on his head, and against my will, I began to fixate on it. What an odd place for a tattoo, I thought. The Snacker produced – you guessed it – more snacks; a Tupperware full of strawberries, a baggie of chips, a string cheese. Her snacking began to weigh on me, and my hand was getting tired; I was fading – fast. Thankfully, lunch arrived as I was on the verge of blacking out. Court and I peeled out of the parking lot, desperate for an hour away from the herd. Despite the fact that it was sleeting slightly, we picked a table on the patio at Chipotle and ate in silence, savoring the quiet and fresh air. In unison, our eyes met and we knew it was time to get back.

Upon return, we discovered that the office next to our classroom belonged to a woman named Carol Poos-Wilson, which begs the question: If your last name was Poos, and you got married and had the opportunity to drop the name, wouldn’t you? Or would you hyphenate it? This was hilarious to us, and we laughed. Then we remembered that we were in Lakewood for insurance licensing, and the laughter ceased.

The afternoon went much like the morning, and the second day went very much like the first – a blur of notes, second-hand smoke, snacks. I begged my sweet sister to give me the aisle seat for a couple of hours, and derived some sick pleasure out of watching her repeatedly bump elbows with Frapuccino Face. There was some police activity in the parking lot, which was briefly exciting for a couple gals from Greenwood Village. We made the amateur mistake of bringing a bag of Jolly Ranchers back from lunch – a very noisy candy to unwrap – and this sent the snacker into a frenzy. She asked if she could have one and proceeded to pick out all the cherries. The nerve! Did it ever occur to her that I might like a strawberry, or a peel of her string cheese? Nooo, she didn’t want to share, but she had no problem pilfering all of the cherries, which happen to be my favorite. I had two choices: Scream very, very loudly or bury my nose in the books and ace every in-class exam. I chose the second, because I am a lady, and the rest of the course was punctuated with high scores and high-fives.

We emerged at 5:00 on Day 2 with full minds and a newfound appreciation for the world outside of those suffocating classroom walls. Although my pursuit for bathroom cleanliness left me feeling like I had been on a Stairmaster from hell, I decided to run around Wash Park to center myself and reflect on my Lakewood vacation. The strangest thing happened: I began to miss The Snacker and the man with the weird head tattoo; I mean I spent two full days with these people, and now what – I’m just never going to see them again? Not to mention they just don’t make coffee like that in the Tech Center. Lakewood doesn’t get enough cred, I thought. Ah, well… another chapter closed in the life of an insurance slanger.

The next morning, we passed all four of the P&C exams with flying colors, leaving me with two questions: Would you have any objection to me reviewing your auto insurance, and what the F is Carol-Poos Wilson up to these days?