Today marked the last official thing i had to do for my Visa application to be successful - i hope. Today i ventured, bright and early into the MLC Centre to have my interview with the US Consulate.
Those five words are quite intimidating and threw all sorts of images and situations at me. Interview with the US Consulate. Surely i would be met with an interrogation not unlike CSI. "Why are you coming?", "who are you working for?" and "who will you be giving information to?". And surely i will be met by some massive, aggressive guy who looks like the bad guy on Avatar. An ex-Marine who has an "old school" take on how things should be done and blames the current state of the world economy and rising cost of living on the fact that we haven't nuked anything.
Like a night out at Panthers, opening the batting on a seaming green-top and leading coming to the final furlong at Eagle Farm, such exciting possibilities are often met with disappointment.
For some stupid reason i had to get up earlier today than i would to go to work. my train left the EP at 6:30 to get to the city. That was so stupid. my sleep in day was replaced with an earlier than normal one (and considering i was up late listening to Dave Grohl's SXSW key note address.... i was quite tired, and still laughing a bit). i made it to the consulate at Martin Place in good time. it is such a pretty spot when there are not many people around. They specifically say not to get there any more than 15 minutes early so i loitered suspiciously around the lifts until about twenty minutes before.
The first security check point was on level 10 and there i joined a line of about 8 others to say what i was doing there and go through a metal detector. There was a "special appointment" queue and i considered it but decided not to. thankfully. i saw someone get humiliated when they said they had an 8:15 appointment. "So does everyone else. Please join the other queue," said the unsympathetic security guard. A young fella got turned away because he had a 9:15 appointment!! "maybe go down and have a coffee... come back fifteen minutes before." Security were a bit of a disappointment. no one got tasered. they seemed Australian and almost educated... I was starting to become aware that it was about 8... and my appointment was 8:15. where was i meant to be fifteen minutes early? am i late? will my visa be denied? am i going to jail for time wasting? it is funny how fast your mind rushes to conclusions.
I made it to the front and handed in my carefully prepared and itemised papers and passed my metal detector test. My mobile phone was taken (at this point a security guard made a homophobic slur about his colleague) I then handed in the papers again and they put a rubber band around them (surely this person's job should be made redundant) before being escorted by security to level 57! way up in the sky little darling. I probably would have gone by choice but no one says no to an escorted lift ride. Made me feel like a celebrity... or that time at Kingswood Sports Cl... never mind!
now at level 57 i walked in (after having my documents checked again) and took a ticket. There was about 5 other people already in the room and it was about ten past eight! i was on time!! about twenty minutes later my number came up and i went to the counter expectantly. there was a man there who took my passport, finger printed me and told me to sit down and wait for another call "shortly" for the actual interview. sounds good!!!
The room began to fill up and time passed fast. At 8:40 the first actual appointment took place, i realised. 55 minutes late... suddenly there were no more chairs in the waiting area and a group of three chinese men were asked to not stand in the doorway. I was not interested in reading the few magazines at the front and my only entertainment was watching people walk past me. and trying to know where they are from and what their stories are. I must admit. Numerous, very pretty girls walked in. Some well dressed, some abhorrently. i smirked, watching people pick up the Economist, leaf through three pages, realise they are out of their depth and try to put it back inconspicuously. I judged.
Finally, at about 9:20 my number came up again. I let out a little "yeah!" in the crowded room to muted laughter and went to the counter. There i was met by a woman behind bulletproof glass. She was rather young and asked me five questions. "Why are you coming to America?", "Do you have family in America?", "are you a student?", "What job do you plan to have in America?", and "What will you do when you return to Australia?" I answered them all safely and intelligently.
Then she said i was done. and she had approved the Visa. It took three minutes... No handshake. No congratulations. No parade. That was all it took? Taken aback by the suddenness of it, it took a while to register. Then it did.
I left the Met Centre floating on air. i wanted to take a running jump into Martin Place and knew, at that moment, i would be able to make it. Everything was coming up John. This is happening!! i am on my way!
An added bonus. Mum found luggage in a Vinnies store for $10... $10. My mum is macklemore. Hunting, looking for a come up, she is f***ing awesome.
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