I have a visa

See, I would try some witty sort of comment for the post title; such as "There are some things money can't buy . . . for everything else there's Visa" but if that were true then the US Govt. would not ban bribery. It would encourage it an ineffecutal and a good means of supplementing income.

I have a visa.

I went down to London today and got a visa - it was a surprisingly simple process. I managed to get to Grosvenor Square without any problems, and spoke with a nice policeman armed with an H&K MP5 . . . there was a lot of iron around there, let me tell you. Security = the max.

I have a visa.

Anyway, after standing in the 1030 queue for about 45 minutes and chatting with a pair of girls called Clare and Vicki (Clare was going for a family visa so she could go live with her dad Florida, and Vicki was moral support), Clare and I went into the embassy, leaving Vicki outside in Gosvenor Square. Where it was cold.

I have a visa.

We then each got given a ticket with a number on it - mine is 023.

I am not a number - I am a free-man!

Although obviously not quite as free as some, given the fact I had to prove an attachment to Liza.

I have a visa.

Right. Clare was then called forward after about an hour or so. I then waited another 20 minutes - despite her being number 22! - and then got called forward.

Documents were handed in, simple questions were asked. Very business like.

I have a visa.

Then I was told to go sit down again and wait for my number to be called for the interview proper. Which I did, next to Clare.

For two freaking hours!!

And then, the interview comes! I am asked the following questions;

"Could you place your left index finger on the scanner?" (answer : yes)

"Could you place your right index finger on the scanner?" (answer : yes)

"Could you raise your right hand and swear or avow that all answers you will give will be the truth?" (answer : yes)

"Where did you meet Liza?" (answer : On a Catholic message board while I was looking for information on how to apply to become a Priest.)

The response was stunned silence and the words "Okay, you'll get your visa in a few days."

That's it?

I asked, "That's it?" I was answered, "Oh, no."

"Ah," thinks I, "here comes the questioning - a sort of false-sense of security has been built up! Clever!"

"Oh, no - you have to tell the couriers where to send it. Have a nice day."

So . . . I did.

You know what this is? It's anticlimactic. It's bloody unfair. Clare and Vicki and I went and had lunch to celebrate, but even that failed to make it seem as exciting as it should.

Still . . . .

I HAVE A VISA!!!

(Note to the Catholics - I wanted to go to this Church which is near the US Embassy for the 1305 Mass, but I was in the US Embassy then, and the next Mass was 1800. I popped in there before I went in for the interview, and found a little shrine to St. Terese. Those of you who know which is Liza's home parish will appreciate this. So . . . the odd prayer of thanks to her for her intercession would be appreciated, as I was unable to go and assist at Mass.)

(I have a visa.)