On Friday afternoon, I went down to the passport office. I took the elevator up with two pimped out white boys wearing sunglasses. Plugged into their iPods and chewing gum, they were ready for action, making a display of their conversation for my benefit. “Yo, that bitch doesn’t know what she’s saying!” “Ho,” the other one agreed.
The office was full of about 50 people sitting around waiting to be processed. I sat near to a woman around 60. She had a big, black bag on the floor with her that she protected by clutching with her topsiders. She was wearing blue jeans and blue jean jacket, which hung loosely over her shoulders. She had a newspaper with her and was primly reading the front section. I leaned over and said, “excuse me.” She ignored me. I leaned yet closer and said “excuse me,” again. Frowning, she slowly turned her head toward me and raised an irritated eyebrow.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you’d mind terribly if I had a look at the sports section?” She sighed, “I haven’t read that section yet, thank you very much,” and then she turned away from me, ostentatiously straightening her paper to make a point about my presumptuous interruption. I do believe that she was getting her passport renewed so that she might travel to Egypt so she might blow-up the pyramids.
The white gangster boys were now at their wicket flaunting their contempt for authority. “Dude, you look like the missing child on a milk carton, “ the skinniest one said to his clerk. The other one, the slightly less skinny one, added, “Yeah, you look like you in Menudo, you know Menudo, dawg?” He stood up on his tiptoes to deliver this bit of news, and then banged fists with his buddy.
After about ten minutes, the guy sitting to my left suddenly got agitated and began to pace. He did this directly in front of me, causing the denim-clad woman to pick up her big, black bag and find another seat. After a minute or two, he began to mumble, and then his number came up. When this happened, he exploded into movement, quick and uncertain, he charged toward his wicket, like a blind man who had just been given the gift of sight.