Step One: Surly government worker checks my ID, stamps my paperwork, and hands me a clipboard. He instructs me to fill out the demographic info and bring it to the next guy.
Step Two: Fill out demographic info and bring it to the next guy.
Step two-and-a-half: Cry inside at the weight I had to put down because it’s a crime to lie to the government.
Step Three: Next guy wipes down my fingers and smooshes them onto a glass panel and my fingerprints appear on a screen. My right ring finger was a rebel and required three smooshes before giving up a decent print.
Side note: my fingerprints are pretty. I wonder if I can get “prints” of them enlarged and framed as artwork.
Step Four: Take off earrings and glasses, tie back hair, and sit unsmilingly for a photo. They say you can’t smile because they need the photo to be identifiable through face recognition software, but I think it’s because these employees have forgotten what smiling is and it would confuse and frighten them.
The end. As usual, I stressed out over nothing. The next part is waiting for our summons for an interview in the Baltimore office, where they will determine that we’re actually married because we, you know, love each other and stuff, and I’m not just some foreign hussy marrying an American dupe so I can get a green card. No idea how long it will be until the interview, unfortunately, but I’m hoping it’s before our first anniversary.