Member-only story
HUMOR
I Pissed Off My Immigration Officer
He was unhappy with my head
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I stared at the white clock hanging on the white wall and watched its black hands move around in a circle. The obnoxious ticking noise echoed around the quiet waiting room.
A ding sounded. My eyes darted to the black screen and read the number displayed:
AF679000GUMDICK7864111
I glanced down at the paper in my hand. After several seconds of examination, I beamed at my matching number.
Apparently, numbers 1 through 10 had bad vibes.
Grasping the itemized gray folder to my chest, I stood and walked forward, ignoring the jealous death stares from the other five lost souls waiting on plastic chairs.
Approaching the cubicle, I smoothed my navy blue dress and walked through the opening. Around the corner, a middle-aged man in a shirt and tie sat at a desk, studying a computer screen.
I paused.
“Hello,” I said.
I’m here. Greet me.
“Hello,” he replied without looking up from his screen.
Erm. You called for me… It’s me — AF679 GUMDICK.