"Heather! Hurry up. We need to get moving," said Maureen Johnson to her daughter.
Heather was moving slow. Not because it was Monday. Not because of a letdown now that her big 18th birthday celebration was over. It was because, before she goes to school, she had to go with her mother to get her Pins.
This was supposed to be a good day--an exciting day-- the day she officially becomes a woman. And it was, for the most part. It was just that she was nervous. Heather wasn't sure what to expect and her mom never really talked about it. Plus, she was one of the oldest amongst her friends so they could provide little insight either. She was in the dark.
In the car, Maureen noticed her daughter's mood.
"What's wrong honey?"
"Nothing...I guess," Heather replied.
"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's mostly paperwork. Think of it as getting your driver's license," Maureen stated.
"There's a TEST!?" Heather yelled.
Maureen laughed out loud. "No, honey. There is not a test."
About that time, the two ended up at their destination. It was a large, rectangular, non-descript building. An imposing black gate surrounded the parking lot. At the entrance there was a large sign that read:
REGIONAL PIN ADMINISTATION BUILDING
NO PIN ACTIVITY BEYOND THIS POINT
Inside, the mother and daughter pair found a room labeled "New Pin Registration" and entered. Maureen signed a pad at a reception window and joined her daughter sitting in the waiting area. The whole experience felt like going to a doctor's office.
Looking around the room, Heather noticed several girls her age. Most were reading magazines or listing to their iPods. And like her, most were with older women, presumably their mothers.
Eventually, a door opened and a large women holding a clipboard called out, "Heather Johnson."
Heather and her mom got up and entered the door.
"Down the hall, to the left. Room 206," said the portly woman.
The ladies turned the corner and approached an open doorway marked '206'. Inside the small office was a basic metal desk pushed to the far wall. On it was a small computer terminal and an open file folder. Behind the desk was a middle aged man with a pale complexion and balding hair. He was wearing brown pants, a white shirt, and an obviously cheap, small necktie. Everything about him screamed typical civil servant.
The man looked up from the file to see Maureen at the door and Heather behind her.
"You must be Heather Johnson. Come in, come in."
The man stood up and motioned to the two small chairs in front of his desk.
"Have a seat, ladies. My name is Frank Williams. Are you Heather's mother?" he addressed Maureen.
"Yes. Maureen Johnson," she replied.
"Great. Lets get started," Frank said.