It came! It came! My passport came via priority mail yesterday. I’m good to board planes and enjoy my prepaid cruise.Why, you may ask, did I play chicken with the U.S Department of State with my cruise on the line? One word: Chewy. (Points to picture of the furry offender)
Don’t be fooled by his teddy bear looks, he’s a homewrecker. Egads, I even named him Chewy. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy. What happened was sometime in 2006-07, a bad, bad, bad, bad puppy somehow got to my passport and, well, did as he was named. I thought the damage to the spine and a tiny corner of the laminate wasn’t that bad. I smacked his bum, and forgot about it.
Until….after I had purchased nonrefundable air and cruise. My bad. I showed my best friend, the all-knowing Angie, before we booked and she thought it was okay. She’s the level-headed, detail-orientated one. I’m not. The picture and none of the text, especially the barcode, was damaged, she reasoned so logically.
It took a while for the thought of “Maaaaybe I should just double check” floated to the forefront, even as we were arranging transfers, shore excursions, private tours, shopping for the cruise. Like I said, not detail orientated. At the back of my mind was this horrible dream I had years ago. You know the oft parodied dream of going to school naked? Never had that dream. Instead, I dreamed that while in the airport security line for a transatlantic flight leaving in 30 minutes, I’d reach into my pocket for my tickets or passport and realize with pale-faced horror that I didn’t have them. My subconscious was screaming at me, I’m sure, but it took me a week and a half to heed the warning. Did I mention that in addition to not being detail orientated, procrastination is also part of my repertoire? Mademoiselle is quite talented.
Anyway, when I finally called the U.S. Department of State, a nice Jeremy/Jason/James/Juan person broke the bad news that even if the tiniest sliver of the laminate is compromised, I had to get a new passport because some person could tamper with the photo and call into question the authenticity of the travel document. That was definitely a big oh, crap moment.
When I informed Angie that I needed a new passport just four weeks before our cruise, I believe she had a fit. Naturally, I emailed her instead of owing up in person so I technically didn’t see her reaction. I imagine a fretful mother chicken going cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, KA-CLUCK and passing an egg out of stress.
Even though Jeremy/Jason/James/Juan said the expedited process which cost an additional $60 on top of the normal $100 fee took two weeks, I had my doubts due to lots of media attention last year focusing on delayed processing times due to changed travel restrictions.
Fortunately, he was right, I was wrong. I put in my application on July 23, 2008 and got my new passport on July 31, 2008—an eight day turnaround. Yay, our tax dollar and pay-for-play at work! My passport picture is still horrendous. (I was wearing a white tailored jacket and had to take it off to show my shoulders, so my passport photo will show me and my bra straps for the next ten years.)
But, it’s all good. I’m a cat in the cream and Angie ain’t gonna pass no more eggs.
1 comment:
Who told you to name him Chewy? duh...he'll chew on everything he can get a hand on. FYI, I didn't just pass an egg, I cooked it and ate it.
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