I Got The Big, Loud, Nasty Immigration Guy: Part Two

To catch up with our story thus far, please see: I Got The Big, Loud, Nasty Immigration Guy: Part One

8:29 a.m.: Doofus Applicant leaves car for the third time, having performed personal strip search for ALL electronic doo-dads (not taking any chances this time on another circuit since she was already getting blisters from the mornings' cardio workout in pumps) and returns to San Jose Immigration Field Office building. After only two attempts at passing through the security inspection area--think "airport security" only with way more sensitive screening devices, necessitating the removal of belt, bracelet, and watch, and then on round two, blistering pumps--she's finally IN. (Half dressed, but in.)

8:38 a.m.: DA gets to first window and is handed a small square piece of paper inscribed with "B 27" and told to wait until her number is called, "over there." "Over there" is a large room filled with rows of plastic chairs facing a rounded bay of 15 wickets. Three of the wickets have the blinds up and are occupied by officers. The drill is you wait until your Bingo Number is called and you're assigned a window. "Now serving A 17 at Window 13" comes floating through the air courtesy of a silken-voiced automated recording, done no doubt by the same sedated woman hiding in the GPS system in our car.

Wicket 6 is occupied by a man who is obviously Officer Paper Overload. He is cutting efficiently through file after bulging file but no Bingo Winner ever gets called to his window. One assumes he has the blinds open for the air circulation and the view of a waiting room half filled with terrified but legal--so far--vile foreigners.

Wicket 13 is inhabited by a small and inexhaustibly patient officerette. So far, it has taken her 17 minutes with the one quiet couple that have been with her since DA arrived in the building. All three huddle close, each on their respective sides, to the plexi-glass sheet that separates them. The plexi-glass partition comes with three small "talk holes," drilled in at just the perfect level for diminutive vile foreigners (standing) and teeny immigration officers (seated) to exchange pertinent information.

And then there is Wicket 15.

W15 is an obvious source of major concern for every sweaty soul seated in a plastic chair clutching a mangled passport and limp bingo number.

In the first place, W15 is big. Think Dallas Cowboys refrigerator styled line-backer with no neck.

And, he's fast. Compared to W13, he is just a-hurtling through vile foreigners at a ratio of about 5-to-1. You want an I-765? Boom! Do this and mail it there, now! And what's that? You lost your card? Zap!! This is good for three months.

And, he's loud. Okay, maybe he has to be loud because he's so big. The talk holes are level with his nipples and he isn't the type to bow his head and grovel, anyway. To make himself heard, he just booms out his questions which float easily over the plexi-glass, reverberate off the opposite wall and riff back across the room with enough velocity to make the one poor guy's toupe lift slightly. I'm sure this communication choice is advantageous for the officer's posture and neck health, but the upshot is that everyone in the room knows the bidness of every Bingo Victim of W15.

Big, loud and fast are all okay, but he also seems particularly testosterony. Boom! "If you don't send the form in by the three month window, don't come back here, looking for a new temporary one. We won't give you one." And... ZAP! "Listen!! Do you want the card or not? Are you saying I don't know my job? Just fill in the form, mail it, and wait. That's how it works."

8:51 a.m.: Doofas A is praying. "God, please don't give me W15. I need some help here. There's been a mistake. The Adjustment of Status has not been approved and they denied my I-765 on the basis of it having been approved and I don't know if this guy will get it, plus he's really big and loud and fast and cranky.... Your will be done, in Jesus' name, amen."

8:55 a.m.: God's will becomes apparent: "Now serving B 27 at Window 15." DA discreetly wets her pants, then approaches W15.

Stay tuned: Part Three coming soon to a screen near you.