Tuesday, March 13, 2007
And a good time was had by all.
Sooomewhere ovaaah the
Sydney Harbour Bridge in a train is where I found myself Monday just gone, at eight-thirty in the morning. What were you slack bastids doing when I was making my way with my trusty mate Sooes
acting as prime navigator [she did a simply faaabulous job too!] down to my immigration appointment at the US Consulate? Huh.
Bet yers were all just having blasted fun and frolics weren't yers?!?
So woooo look at me, nearly done with all this fuddycruddy stuff.
Although I must say, this latest "hoop" was the easiest. Nothing really went wrong. Was like I was being "rewarded" for my, my, well my goodness. Arhaaha. Oh lookout. I snorted when I laughed then. But really I was nudged along very nicely. From the bag x-raying security dude at the first checkpoint who noticed I was sitting in the wrong spot "Maam...you can go to the front row of seats, with those three" and then noticed me still sitting in this row when the other three were trotting off leaving the room for the guarded elevator ride up to the next floor "Maam...you can go with those people now".
The lady security guard who along with the male security guard enjoyed my "victory arms" being raised and waved about when I made a success of walking through the metal detector on my third attempt. Bloody belt buckle and my watch. You'd think I'd know to take that stuff off huh. Next time I will write them on my hand under the "remove" heading.
The pretty young clerk at window number 3 [Hawaiian I think] that dealt with my paperwork...which must have been in order as she didn't send me to the back of the line. Bless her...was very bloody nice and helpful. I was so glad my ticket wasn't called by the loud cow at window number 1. She insisted on having her windows loud-speaker turned on.
Everybody could hear yer business being repeated back at you.
Fer instance I now know that ticket holder number eight is a divorcee with a four year old daughter; a girl living in NY and that she'd just flown back to Sydney last night to get this sorted. She was getting slightly stroppy but calmed down a level when loud cow informed her and us that she was there to assist her blah blah. The ticketed number ten's have a daughter whose name is Scarlet. They came in to pick up a "transportation" letter so she could enter the country of her parents birth. They were getting a bit pissy because Mary who had emailed them to do this, couldn't remember emailing them in the first place. No, the ten's didn't have the printed emails on them. And the Hispanic lady at window number 5...[this clerk also made use of his loudspeaker but wasn't nearly as loud as number 1 cow; he had a very nice voice...shame about his face tho]...was deported in 2006. Not sure who did this deportation, if it was us, well we didn't do a very bloody good job of it did we uh...she's still here. Or maybe she snuck back over. Dunno.
The bloke that "interviewed" me was a bloody big spunk.
Whoever gave birth to him should be rewarded. Now, whoever you are, can you make me one that's at least 20 years older. Thanks. I was index finger printed and asked a few questions and then I had to hold up my right hand and solemnly swear that all the details provided by me were true and correct. And then sign the document.
Luckily I uncrossed my left fingers before I bought that hand up to hold the paper while I did just that huh.
Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration, Missus Clever Troosers
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
6:31 am ::
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