so, the FBI called…

Several weeks ago, I wrote here about getting fingerprinted (or not) for my immigration background check.  The papers were all carefully sent off to the folks in my home country who look after such things, which would be the FBI.  When I first moved here, I had to have a criminal records check by “local police,” which in that case was the Berkeley Police Department, a group that runs a little differently from–oh say–the Boston Police Department, the Boise Police and other BPD’s. (My son, when he was 12, pointed this out after he dealt with the Mendocino Sheriffs and concluded that, in his words, “They’re just not like the Berkeley police.”) Anyway, that criminal records check cost me $15 and took 11 minutes.

This time, I’ve been promised a four to six week wait, which, frankly, sounds swift given everything else the FBI must have to deal with on a daily basis. So I was not prepared for the message Bob passed along this week:  seems “Susi from the FBI” (as she identified herself) had phoned up to check on some odd bit of identifying data on my application.  Imagine:  Susi from the FBI.  It sounds like a really bad comic book.

For his part, Bob gave the info, was surprised that she didn’t want to pursue it any more formally, and bit his tongue so as not to ask her if she’s seen the nifty scene in Young Triffie where the keener cop tries to fingerprint a sheep.


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