Have you ever noticed how much ridiculous stuff happens to Crystal? She is constantly getting some sort of red tape run-around. Her cell phone, her car; at least once a month there is some minor yet ultra-frustrating thing that she has to deal with. For a while, I wondered if perhaps she wasn't embellishing things just a bit.
Now I have moved here and it has come to my attention that it is quite possible for a person to face nonstop hassle, even when they are trying to do very simple things.
The simple thing I was trying to Wednesday was this: Find an immigration officer.
Since I couldn't find one in Fishguard on Tuesday, I decided that before I did the leave-the-country-and-come-back thing again, I should find out where exactly I should come back to, so as to be sure to find a nice immigration officer to put a stamp in my passport. So, I called Immigration.
And, of course, it was a clusterfuck.
I ended up talking to a woman with a French or Belgian accent who spoke much in the way you would expect if she were strapped to a chair and there were deadly cobras slithering around at her feet. She spoke in a rapid, panicked, whine; giving answers to questions that I had not asked and seemingly failing to comprehend the meanings of the questions that I did ask. Twice I used this phrase: "Perhaps if you will allow me to speak, I can explain my situation to you."
Despite the fact that she was responding to me as if I were a Nazi interrogator, I was unable to pry any clear information from her. Mostly what she did was repeat what I just told her, but in a more long-winded way. Eventually, I just gave up on her and decided that the child bride and I will go to the continent as soon as time affords. Until then, I will play dumb American if the issue ever comes up.
This link will only be good until 6:30 p.m. GMT (12:30 p.m. CST) Friday, but I'm posting it because it's of me. If you go to time code 18:14, you can see an interview I did on Welsh television.
Good name for a band: Fizzy Piss