ON DOING BUSINESS

On Tuesday I arose early(8:00am, early for me) abluted, this included shaving with an old two blader. Now this is a big deal as I don't shave that often, my whiskers being white, in general. Why would a bloke do anything this radical?

I had a 10:30 appointment at the US consulate, down town, so I reckoned that I should be presentable--even to the extent that I donned trousers (instead of shorts) replete with classy braces (suspenders to yanks), belt (you never can be too careful) and clean short sleeved, square bottom shirt, black (instead of white) sox and almost polished shoes.

About 9:15, I decided that I'd best be on my way, not knowing how long it would take to arrive at my destination. I hadn't caught a bus for several years, so knew neither the schedule nor the fare . As luck would have it, four different buses routes passed my stop; one of which I wanted to catch. I erred slightly and hailed a 102 vs a 103 which meant I had a bit of a hike upon arrival. It is assumed that the exercise was good for me.

The building housing the consulate was reached in plenty of time. A perusal of the board listing the occupants of the building showed the consulate to be on the fourth floor. On to the lift and off at the fourth floor where a sign pointed to an extremely sturdy door with a heavy window (no doubt bullet proof) through which a rotund figure could be seen.

Upon opening the door I was informed by the figure to stand still, empty my pockets into a small wicker basket, remove all metal objects from my person and place same in the small wicker basket then walk through the Arch of Death (every decent airport has lots of them). Emptying my pockets was simple as was the removal of my belt, but unclipping my braces and slipping them from under my clean shirt with the square bottom was done with difficulty, in addition, with the removal of all support, gravity began to work on my trousers. One hand was needed to preserve my modesty while the other scooched the wicker basket around the Arch of Death prior to my march through same. After several tries (I had a half empty packet of chewing gum in my shirt pocket that set off the buzzer) I was allowed to retrieve my possessions, put on the belt---I stuffed the braces in my pocket as it was too difficult and time consuming to reinstall them---and was given a yellow clip-on 'visitors' badge and permitted to catch the lift to the thirteenth floor where business was to be conducted. I was given the once over by a civilian guard of likely Philippine ancestry and allowed into the business office.

The lady with whom I dealt was most pleasant and efficient and took the sheaf of papers that I shoved under the blast-proof tellers window and she asked me to take a seat. One could see that there was plenty of activity and within a relatively short time a gentleman summoned me to the window and said every thing was about ready and would I go to window four and pay the lady $US90, which I did--back to window one where the chap, who was the consul, finished affixing his signature and shoved my papers back with cover-sheets with legal words, signatures and an impress of the Great Seal of the U.S. and bound to my papers with a genuine brass grommet (I checked with a magnet).

My departure was less traumatic than my arrival; however, being of advanced years, I felt the call of nature and when returning the yellow 'visitors' badge I asked the rotund figure if there was a loo in the vicinity and he responded, pointing, that "the men's bathroom was over there" Not wanting to tell him that I'd already had a shower and didn't really need a bath, I went through the door and lo and behold there before me was a urinal!

This all took only two hours including bus transport home.

AC