City of North Wildwood Room License Form

What you experience as a teller seems to vary on not only the bank you work for, but the branch you work in. For instance, my experience as a teller is probably very different than those in a lot of other bank branches because I work at a branch that has a lot of higher end clientele. We do a lot more catering and hand-holding than other branches do, and sometimes have to bend the rules a little to get things done.My day starts with me putting up my stuff in a secure area in the break room. If I’m opening, I disarm the alarms and do the morning walk-through with another teller. Then we deal with all the daily duties like getting the work together from earlier that week to send to the main office, putting together the sell for the armored truck, or auditing one of the many machines or vaults we have.I get out my drawer, boot everything up, finish putting the Nightdrops in the system, and then I wait. The morning is usually slow, so we spend a lot of time talking and trying to entertain ourselves… or trying not to fall asleep. Businesses show up a little later in the morning usually or throughout the day. And from there its an array of change orders, trying to sort out the mass of bills and checks sometimes neatly put together and sometimes crammed in a bag with such little care that it could take you 5–10 mins just to sort into some sort of order. But you get through all that and then you wait some more… and you wait some more…. and you wait some more… Given, a lot of branches are actually busy, so there is very little waiting involved, and much more trying not to lose your mind. But this is my branch.There’s a lot of checks being cashed, checks and bills being deposited, and people asking what their balance is. You get the occasional person bringing in their change to cash out. Or you get to let someone into their safe deposit box. That’s all the easy part of being a teller.The hard part is the questions you have to answer and the regulations that you have to follow. Telling people “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” and then having to try and explain why, because they don’t understand. It’s a lot of filling out forms. If I had a dollar for every slip I’ve had to fill out for someone I would’ve nearly doubled my paycheck every month. All of that is monotonous, though. And it can drive you crazy after a while. But the part of my job I really enjoy are those rare instances when I feel like I can actually really help someone. To put in the extra mile and teach someone who’s concerned about counterfeit 20s in her yard sale how to tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake. To teach someone who doesn’t know English very well how to write out English numbers on his checks so he can pay his employees. It’s painstakingly going through every transaction with someone on their banking statement and showing them the result until they’re satisfied. It’s teaching high school kids how to fill out their first bank deposit form. It’s letting someone know their driver’s license is about to expire. It’s always been the small things that really make the job worth doing to me.But in between all of that, there are the vast arrays of paperwork that have to be done every day. Phone calls for all the check, debit card, and foreign currency orders. Followed by writing out hold logs. Trying to fill private banking’s little tasks. Occasional product phone calls can be assigned, which can take anywhere from one minute to an hour and thirty depending on the number of calls and the type. There’s filling out the occasional credit card application for a customer or a direct deposit request form. Then there’s the federal reporting forms that have to be filled out occasionally depending on the circumstance. In our branch, we also get a large amount of loan work that gets sent our way, so that takes up some time as well—completing their transactions and being essentially front-line secretaries. There are of course sales goals to fill, but at least in my bank, my job doesn’t rely on me signNowing my goal.Even with all that seriousness, some of it can be very funny. Like the truck who ran over lane 4. Or the fact that our ATM is constantly on the fritz and has a taste for eating people’s checks. Or when we’ve accidentally sent two tubes to the same lane. Or that guy who came in wanting to withdrawal $2000 in 1s for a wedding… or someone who chose to deposit an entire tub full of coin. There are days when I go home wanting to scream, and then there are days when I smile from ear to ear, but in the end, I love my job. It may not be an end game for me, but I have very few complaints. I work for a good company, and for now, that’s good enough for me.As for advice… the only thing I can tell you is… try to find joy in the small things. Be kind and people will often be kind to you.

I am one of 3 sons, and we were all told from as young as I can remember, “You have until you’re 18 to live here and eat my food and use my utilities. As long as you live here, you will obey my rules. My house, my things, my kids, my rules.” This was not my parents’ position just to “make me homeless”. Homelessness was not their intent. Us boys achieving independence and self-reliance was the intent.My parents lived through the Great Depression and World War II. My Dad was a B-29 bombardier in the Korean War, but before that he was one of 14 children of a tobacco farmer (and moonshiner), and that meant that he had to work hard for every meal he ate. My Granddaddy was a little, wiry, freakishly strong, backbreaking worker of a man. Daddy always told us (and so did his siblings) that the young un’s were Mama’s until theywere big enough to hold a hoe and shovel, at which point they became Granddaddy’s labor force. Granddaddy would often say he couldn’t afford to hire help, so he just made it instead.My Mom is a first-generation American, the daughter of Itish immigrants who fled Ireland due to the depths of poverty and hopelessness turn-of-the-century Irishmen endured. Hours in Irish fields were just as long and hard as what my Dad grew up in, and my Mom’s folks knew there was no future for them at home. Irish children died of hunger routinely or were basically sold off to various ‘labour houses’ to perform backbreaking manual labor for pennies a week. Upon arriving in the US in 1910, in Birmingham, Alabama, my grandparents found work of the same type as in Ireland: crop gathering, mining, menial household chores-type work wherever it could be found.Feeding a family in those conditions was a tribulation. It was very common for children to strike out on their own as young as 15. My Mom stayed at home with her folks until at 18, she met my Dad on leave in 1956 in Pensacola, Florida, where she was visiting cousins, picking strawberries and tomatoes for 2¢ a bushel. My Dad joined the Air Force by lying about his age to get in, in 1949 at the age of 15, to get off the farm and “make some real money”—the princely sum of $82 per month! And free medical and dental, and even paid vacation. Unheard-of in 1949 on the shale flats and hills of rural Tennessee tobacco country. By 1956, Daddy had gone from an Airman 2 to an O-1 bombardier from 1951–53 (battlefield promotion) and back down to WO-4 after the war when he reclassed as an Air Policeman, for which he was paid $399 per month. They married in 1959 after he got out of the Air Force. He took his GI Bill and went to flight school and electronics school, eventually becoming a commercial-rated pilot and an Electrical Engineer just as the Space Race shifted into warp drive. He landed at NASA and TRW Space Systems (from which he retired after 33 years).Mom had no education beyond high school and secretary school, working as a store clerk, a farmer’s market secretary, a Ma Bell telephone operator, a doctor’s receptionist, a medical bookkeeper, and even a Census taker, collections agent, and construction secretary. She finally fetched up at DCAA and retired as a Federal auditor.Even after such a life, my Daddy found himself to be restless—he often said he didn’t know what to do with himself, living at 3113 Leftwich Street, Huntsville, Alabama in 1965. Their house had a small back yard, too small for livestock or gardening, so in 1969, he found a delapidated old farm in Lincoln, Tennessee, and that’s where I lived until 1976, when I absconded to the military.Theirs was a rags-to-JCPenney-clothes story, and every chapter was written in sweat and tears. My brothers and I were raised on a feeder farm by hard-working, no-nonsense people who were themselves the children of hard-working, no-nonsense people.Being shown the door at NLT 18 may seem cruel to the modern generation (of Americans) who’ve never once had to scrape potatoes out of the earth with their bare hands (like me and my family did), or catch a cow that didn’t want to be caught, or pluck chickens or gut fish, or scrub the bristles off a hog’s hide just to have supper.My parents took me to the Lincoln County Health Department when I was 14 to get my work permit, and they found me my first job—minimum wage of $1.65 per hour (not $2.00, because it was a restaurant…an ice cream shop). I had to give every cent to them for room and board and gas to and from the Hyde Out. If I was lucky, I kept $2–3 for myself.I couldn’t wait to be 18 and get the hell out of there! I mean, I literally couldn’t wait—I joined the Navy at 17 (with Daddy’s blessing and Mom’s not knowing until it was too late to stop it).For many people of my generation, getting kicked out at 18 was a liberation. It was very hard to live at home with the endless labors of being a farmer’s child.I vowed that my eventual children would not be raised so close to the dirt that they had to dig it out from under their fingernails every night. I vowed that my eventual kids would not have to go fishing after school to have meat for supper. Once I was finished with military service, I bought a place in the country to raise my kids on…but it is no farm—feeder, truck, commercial, or otherwise. Just some acreage 20 miles from my job where I can plant tomatoes, onions, and hot peppers, where I don’t hear sirens every single day, or have neighbors 30 feet away, but guess what I told my kids?“You have until you’re 18 to live here and eat my food and use my utilities. As long as you live here, you will obey my rules. My house, my things, my kids, my rules.”I also told them, “You think I’m hard on you, but I never wake you up at 3:00AM to feed the cows, chickens, and hogs and bring in firewood and eggs before you go to school. I don’t make you cut firewood or 12 rows of okra (okra cutting is torture), or bend your back picking bush beans. I never make you clean rabbits or deer for the freezer. I don’t make you sit out back and shuck corn and shell peas for 10 hours. You two have got. It. Made. I make you mow the lawn and pick up your dirty clothes. I make you load the dishwasher. I make you brush your teeth. I make you bring the garbage cans up. I make you do your homework. I’m a bastard, aren’t I?”I made them study and work hard on schooly things because I had already figured out that kids their ages would be adults left behind without college degrees. My hard work and theirs allowed both to attend and graduate the University of Alabama. They’ve done quite well for themselves, and I never have to give either one a cent. I went back to school myself, though not UA because of cost, taking 8 years of night school and correspondence courses to earn my own degrees).None of this was easy, not for any of us.Life is hard. It takes work.And you have to start young.Your parents are doing you a favor. They are not saying to you, “Get out, we hate your guts,” they are saying to you, “Get out and make your own way, and you must start young.”You must adopt the proper attitude: this is for your own good, and only you can see to your own good. Who stays with Mom and Dad til he’s 30 has crippled his own independence and gumption. Get-up-and-go. Drive. Ambition.If you have none, you become a leech rather than a worker bee.

I will summarise the entire process of getting a driving licence in Bangalore. Without Broker / agent or any driving school. Before starting, here is the checklist:No matter wherever you are in Bangalore, choose KR Puram RTO (https://goo.gl/maps/fKCEV) for getting your driving licence. Personnels there are a thousand times more civilised and honest than others. I visited Koramangala RTO first, which is ruined by agents and corrupt officials.You'll first need to apply for learning driving licence. After one month, you can apply for permanent driving licence.You would need an age proof and address proof, along with corresponding originals documents.Common age proofs- 10th class marksheet or PAN card. Address Proof is complicated. If you are an outsider, staying in a rented apartment, then you would compulsorily need 2 address proofs, both for your local address as well as your permanent address.Local address proof- A rental agreement carrying your name as "tenant" and your landlord's name as "owner", along with electricity bill in your owner's name will suffice. Visit Kormangala's BDA complex (https://goo.gl/maps/aeunM) to get your rental agreement for about Rs 170/-Permanent Address proof- Your Voter card or Passport mentioning your permanent address would suffice. If you are a localite, i.e, your permanent address is same as local address, then only permanent address alone will suffice. Check this page for comprehensive list on address and age proofs- https://sarathi.nic.in:8443/nrpo...You would need a few passport sized photographs.Preparations (Location- Your home)You'll first need to fill an online form for licence. Its a PDF form, that generates an application number. It only works in Windows with IE and signNowr reader. Mac wont work, Ubuntu wont work, http://browserstack.com wont work. I used a VM created in Parallels (on Mac) to create the following cheapest possible environment (in terms of memory and labour required) that works - 1) Windows XP service Pack 3, 2) Internet Explorer 7.0.5730.133) signNow 9.4.0 (Old Version of signNow 9.4.0 Download - OldApps.com - 26.35 Mbs).Open IE and visit http://www.rto.kar.nic.in . Click on "License e-Services". Hopefully you'll be taken to https://sarathi.nic.in:8443/nrpo... (if they dont change the port number, etc). Accept any security confirmation if prompted.Click on "Issue of a Learning Licence to me" which should take to https://sarathi.nic.in:8443/UF/p... . Enable signNow's browser plugin to render this PDF on IE. You should get a form like:If you have to apply for both 2 wheeler and Car, check (2) "MOTOR CYCLE WITH GEAR (NON TRANSPORT)-(MCWG )" and (4) "LMV-NT-CAR-(LMV   )"After filling the complete form, click on "Submit". You should see this message:Note down the application number. Now go back to homepage and click "Print Application Form" https://sarathi.nic.in:8443/nrpo.... Fill details, save and print the form. Stick your photo.Buy a brown paper folder with ribbon (compulsory). Collate the application form as printed in step 9, Age Proof, Permanent address proof and Local address proof (if applicable). Tie all papers with the ribbon, and write your name, application number and date of birth on top of the folder.Exam preparations. You'll be asked 5-10 random questions on traffic signs (maybe oral or written). Prepare these 3 sections:Mandatory Signs - http://www.rto.kar.nic.in/signs/...Cautionary Signs - http://www.rto.kar.nic.in/signs/... Informatory Signs - http://www.rto.kar.nic.in/signs/... Do prepare them well. You will be rejected if you dont pass the oral exam. (I was rejected, then I had to re-appear the next day.)We are now set to visit KR Puram RTO.In-Person Visit (Location- KR Puram RTO, Time 9:30am)Try to visit RTO before 10am. You'll finish the entire procedure in less than 20 mins.Visit the Challan counter (counter "3", if they didn't change it), submit your brown folder, with application number. You need to pay Rs 30 for each vehicle type. For Car + Bike pay only 60/- (Carry change. They refused to accept my 100 rupee note.) Tie the challan on top of other pages.Visit 1st floor. The signing officer will tally your originals with Xeroxes and approve the documents if found in order.Visit room number 2, for the Oral/written exam. The RTO inspector will ask you to explain 5-10 random signs. If you pass the exam, he'll approve your file and keep it with himself.If you fail the exam, dont panic. Your folder will be returned back to you and you'll need to re-appear for exam, the very next day. Before appearing for exam, you'll need to re-visit the signing officer (step 3). He'll stamp your file with new date. Then you can proceed for your exam.Visit after 2 working days after 3pm. Carry your ID proof. The inspector will search you file, stick your photos and handover you learning licences (2 A4 sheets- one for Car, another for geared 2-wheeler). Total cost- Rs 60/- Total RTO Visits required- 2Time Invested- 4-5 hours (including form filling and visits)I have not completed 1 month yet, so haven't appeared for Permanent licence. Will update the answer once I do so.

I live in Germany. I got an invite to the Quora partner program the day I landed in USA for a business trip. So from what I understand, irrespective of the number of views on your answers, there is some additional eligibility criteria for you to even get an email invite.If you read the terms of service, point 1 states:Eligibility. You must be located in the United States to participate in this Program. If you are a Quora employee, you are eligible to participate and earn up to a maximum of $200 USD a month. You also agree to be bound by the Platform Terms (https://www.quora.com/about/tos) as a condition of participation.Again, if you check the FAQ section:How can other people I know .participate?The program is invite-only at this time, but we intend to open it up to more people as time goes on.So my guess is that Quora is currently targeting people based out of USA, who are active on Quora, may or may not be answering questions frequently ( I have not answered questions frequently in the past year or so) and have a certain number of consistent answer views.Edit 1: Thanks to @Anita Scotch, I got to know that the Quora partner program is now available for other countries too. Copying Anuta’s comment here:If you reside in one of the Countries, The Quora Partner Program is active in, you are eligible to participate in the program.” ( I read more will be added, at some point, but here are the countries, currently eligible at this writing,) U.S., Japan, Germany, Spain, France, United Kingdom, Italy and Australia.11/14/2018Edit 2 : Here is the latest list of countries with 3 new additions eligible for the Quora Partner program:U.S., Japan, Germany, Spain, France, United Kingdom, Italy, Canada, Australia, Indonesia, India and Brazil.Thanks to Monoswita Rez for informing me about this update.

**Tell them there is a wedding.**Learned that the hard way.Everyone and their mother, their mother’s friend, their cousin's friend’s neighbors cousin.They all want the invite. If you love them you’ll invite them. Don’t be a bad person.That person you hung out with twice ten years ago? You mean a lot to him. He’d love to be there.On one hand, it was flattering.Our wedding was some big social event. Like we were royalty. Being invited was some sign of class, social currency achieved in the form of a small overpriced RSVP card you received from the god damn mailman, baby.Or maybe it isn’t wasn’t flattering, maybe this is a domesticated version of the last liferaft.Oh but if only it were women and children only, it would have been so much easier.Because unfortunately, weddings aren’t free.And sure enough, not inviting a cousin 17 steps removed will be drama.So yes, tell them there’s a wedding. Fill the room. Drain the wallet.**Tell them you can see your neighbors having sex through the window.**“Oh, that’s just so wrong. Give them privacy.”Says everyone on the internet.But if 98xVirtueCrusaderx89 was at your house?She’d be right there fogging the window and chuckling with you.**Tell them there’s a puppy.**Watch the girls crawl over each other to go pet the puppy.Hear their asychronous, dischordant chorus of awwwwwws.They become servants of Lord Pupdor, the puppification complete, transfixed by the hypnotic ball of furry cuteness.**Tell old people there are free samples at the grocery store.**Watch them flock in like wild animals. The feeding frenzy begins. Canes are swinging, someone’s fake teeth come sliding across the aisle at your feet.WW2 is still alive and well. The Great Depression never ended.F-ck you Hitler. Feed me some chicken dips.Cheap, old people, love them some free food samples.

This answer is going to make me sound like a spoiled brat, but here goes…I wasn’t actually looking for a new position, but I was contacted by a company for a position in a company about 5km from my house. The company was in the most beautiful office park, and I often commented that I wished the company I worked for would move there. Close to home and beautiful. There was a lake with ducks and Egyptian geese.So when they asked me to come in and have an interview, I agreed.The first interview turned out not to be an interview at all. They just wanted me to write a test. I suppose they wanted to make sure I could do the job before offering me the position, which is fine but I wanted to make sure the position was something I wanted first anyway.The second interview, was more what I wanted. After answering all of their questions, I got to ask mine.Mel: Do you have flexi-hours?Interviewer: No, but if you travel from very far away, you can start at 7am and leave at 4pm rather than the usual 8am - 5pm.Mel: Can I work from home at all?Interviewer: No. Never.Mel: What makes this a nice company to work for?Interviewer: We have a pool table. Sometimes after work we will play pool. Also the directors are really nice and we aren’t afraid to talk to them.Mel: Is that all?Then I told them about the company where I currently work.We have a pool table and 2 ping-pong tables, and a foosball table, and a dart board. Also Jenga, Chess, Pictionary, Scrabble and various other board games. We play sometimes after work, or during lunch, or when the company decides to host a tournament, or that time when there was a power failure, or when a director has challenged you.We have flexi-hours. I can start work at 6am and leave at 3pm and miss all the heaviest traffic. I also get to work from home 2 days a week.One day a year, we can spend doing work in our community. Some people work at a school, in an impoverished area nearby. Some of us go and work at an animal shelter, in that same area. The company arranges it for us, and our pay gets affected, not at all. And volunteer work is so good for the soul.The company pays a catering company to make lunch for everyone at work, every day. They also provide bread for us to make ourselves breakfast, if we want. With the bread, they also provide margarine, jam, peanut butter and other such things.On Fridays, at 2pm, we can buy beer and cider at cost (actually rounded down) from the company and drink it at our desks.And as far as having directors that aren’t scary, ours sit with us at lunch.I told you, I’m a spoiled brat. No way would I go and work for that company when I’m already working for such a great place.Sure, sometimes I get grumpy about how hard we have to work. Especially since we are geared towards being able to work from home, it means that even when you’re home and relaxing in front of the TV, you could get a call to log on and fix some urgent defect.It’s still worth it. I bet the people at that other place have to work hard too, but they don’t get to sip on a beer while sitting at their desks on a Friday.

First you must be truthful. Look at your assets, what do you do best, then look at what the future employer’s needs and fit the two together as best you can. On any job application or any correspondence try to master the King’s English to your very best ability. This is especially important if the new job requires communication interfacing with other people outside your company.