PASSPORT PAROXYSM

This one is about my frenzied, full-tilt hoop-jumping extravaganza to obtain my first U.S. Passport.


I'm now convinced there is a conspiracy to make the Federal Government an example of insanity or inanity, take your pick. The conspirators were probably aiming for one and achieved the other by a misprint.


First, I filled out the U.S. Passport application online. Piece of cake. Or so I thought. Apparently I had not remembered the birthplace of my parents correctly. Fortunately, my procrastination and absent-minded nature saved me from falsifying information on a federal document. This fact was the inauguration of my foray into the absurd.


Having lost the application, (I think I was under the influence of the same conspiracy) I filled it out again, and decided to verify my parents' information. Disaster averted. I must have broken free from the conspiracy's mind control. The government was not so lucky.


Having application in hand I recruited my mosted trusted comrade, Mason of Humor*, to assist me in completing the application process. Since our dearly beloved vehicle bit the dust (May Ruby rest in peace) I needed Mason to give me a ride to the Post Office. Only his intrepid driving skills could have navigated the perilous paths between the Hoops of Insanity! (also known as the requirements for completing a passport application process)


*Side note: I have beknighted Mason with this title because he makes me laugh. And the play on his name implies he is a craftsman or builder of humor. Since he inspires silliness in me, it seems to work on two levels.


So, we get to the post office. And I forgot a birth certificate. Doh! Must be the conspiratorial mind-control again. Off to my residence where my birth certificate is located. Certificate in hand, we must now go to the City Clerks Office because the hoop of opportunity (hoop seems more appropriate than window) at the post office had closed. They only take passport applications until 3pm, and it was....you guessed it.....3pm.



Frenzied car drive to Clerks office. Only after parking the car and entering the building did we find out that I didn't know the correct address to the City Clerk's Office. Fortunately, it was another government building, so I was redirected to the correct location. The passing of the buck was typical government behavior, but the accuracy was surprisingly correct. Upon arrival at the Clerk's office, we are greeted by government inspired signage. The conspirators are thorough.



This is a door at the correct address. As you can hopefully make out, the sign says Main Entrance. This is not the main entrance.

This is the main entrance, which is not specifically labeled.

Upon entering the non-Main Entrance entrance(we were not fooled, HA!), we see this sign.

It clearly says that Passports and the City Clerks office are on the lower level to the RIGHT.

The next picture is of the same sign on the left and the stairs up and down on the right side of the picture. To get to the lower level from the sign, you must go LEFT.


And once you descend the stairs, the path to the passport office is not to the right. It is a microscopicly slight bearing to the right, meaning if you went straight down the stairs and were carrying a piece of paper in your right hand, you would drift perfectly through the doorway. Such was the case for us. There we were told that the birth certificate I had was not "Certified", so I had to go to the Vital Statistics office and obtain one.

This City Clerk was also kind enough to supply us with the other requirements for completing the process. Finally, a hoop-jumpers guide! She must be trying to subvert the conspiracy from the inside. Fight on, brave hero! She even supplied the correct address for the Vital Statistics office. Apparently government likes to be accurate when passing the buck.


The hoop-jumping manual said we needed two amounts of payment, one for the Feds and one for the Clerks. The feds take check or money order only, no debit card. (What does a goverments say about itself when it won't accept payment in its own currency? Conspirators hard at work again) The clerks take cash, check or money order, no debit card. Conspirators being hard at work, I only had debit card as a form of payment. Is the absurdity setting in yet?

So ensued a frenzied drive to the Vital Statistics office during which I tried to find out if the Albertson's near the Vital Statistics office would process a money order. I called 1-800-FREE411 to get Albertson's number. After listening impatiently to the ads, I got the listed number for Albertson's. It was disconnected. Two more calls two FREE411(with advertising included) yielded a number to another Albertson's, who gave me the phone number to our intended destination. Calling that, I learned that yes, they would process a money order. So, stop at the Vital Statistics office. Another freedom fighter at Vital Statistics managed to install a debit card keypad to take my $20 "fee". I was their FIRST debit card transaction. They were still training on it. Even though it lines the pockets of the conspirators, the method by which my fee reached the conspirators must really be a thorn in their side. HA HA!


It took its sweet time, but the transaction did go through on the first try. Viva le Resistance! After 5-10 minutes we obtained my "Certified" birth certificate. Hoop cleared! Off to Albertson's. With no ATM on hand, I got to use the checkout stand to obtain cash.


Let's recap: Left work early to apply for passport. No birth certificate. Point Team Conspiracy. No time to go back to post office because they stop accepting applications at 3pm. Point Team Conspiracy. Go home, get birth certificate, get through signage maze to City Clerk's office. Point Team Humor. (We laugh in the face of conspiracy! Moving on...) No "Certified" birth certificate OR method of payment BUT a hoop-jumpers guide. 2 Points Team Conspiracy, 1 Point Team Humor. Team Conspiracy 4, Team Humor 2. Mad dash to Vital Statistics office while listening to annoying advertising and getting the run around. The advertising was a necessary tactical sacrifice. Point Team Conspiracy. Debit Card transaction at Vital Statistics office AVAILABLE AND SUCCESSFUL ON THE FIRST TRY. 2 Points Team Humor. (Viva Le Resistance!) Team Conspiracy 5, Team Humor 4. With that score in mind, the adventure continues....


One must purchase something to use the checkout as an ATM. I select two apple fritters and head to checkout. I'm told I can only withdraw $100 at a time. Amount needed: $167. Point Team Conspiracy. The $100 limit was set by Albertson's, but somehow the conspirators set the fees, so they get a point for attention to detail. Team Conspiracy 6, Team humor 4. I buy two more apple fritters and withdraw another $100. (I got extra cash because I was no longer leaving any opportunities for the conspirators to jump through their self-made loopholes and pull my hoop in after them. Hoop is made from the letters in loophole, interesting.)


Moving to the customer service counter, I obtained the money order AND cash in all the correct denominations. Payment methods obtained! 2 points Team Humor, 1 for each payment method. (We also made the customer service clerk laugh relating the idiocy experienced thus far. No point awarded but it shows we have style.) Making quick work of two apple fritters (the other two were saved for our lovely brides of course) we made the mad dash back to the Clerk's Office. Navigate Signage again. No point awarded because we already knew the way. Slight drift to the right down the stairs.

We are approaching the 4:30pm final buzzer and the score is tied at 6. In combat with Team Conspiracy, there is no tie-breaker. The only sudden death round is your sudden death(or being forced to leave work early AGAIN while bumming a ride from your generous comrade). At 4:21pm, we were served by one of the City clerks. We made our last-ditch, Hail Mary, do-or-die play for the win and related our experience to the clerk as she guided us through the final hoops.

She apologized for our ordeal (a fellow Freedom Fighter!). Against all hope, our salvation in this conflict came from our incognito comrade clerk. She said in a funny, growly, Grover from Sesame Street voice, "I didn't mean to!" Humor from Team Conspirator! Point Team Humor and the win!!!!! Team Humor wins! Team Humor wins! And the crowd goes wild!!!!!!!! The other people in the clerks office cheered. Some cried. We were carried on their shoulders to the Victory Table and toasted for our dauntless hoop-jumping efforts.


Reality check. The kind clerk took my picture and payment, the application was completed, and Mason and I toasted our own victory with a sigh of relief and some final laughs at the adventure. Who knew that dealing with multiple government agencies could bear so much ironic fruit?

My Dad, probably. He was a government employee for 20+ years. An irony all its own: He worked for the U.S. Forest service and hated to go camping. However, he managed to thumb his nose at the Man by being a computer programmer instead of a park ranger. Way to go, Dad!
His camping philosophy? "It took 5,000 years for man to get out of the wilderness. Why go back?"


I wonder if being a government worker's kid made me a target for the conspirators. Or maybe I was inadvertantly aiding the Freedom Fighters.(Viva le Resistance!) Only more encounters with the conspirators agents will reveal the truth.....or more hilarity. Its hard to tell the difference sometimes. Or maybe I just don't want to. :)