Wish I got Arrested

June 28, 2010

TTMadrid accepted us.  It was exciting.  We ate leftover Carvel Ice Cream Cake with those little chocolate crunch things.  It all went so fast.  The interview was at 4:00 am, we learned of our acceptance later in the day, and began sorting logistics soon after.  I gave a speech: ‘I thank no one but myself…’

TTMadrid provides student visas, which I thought would be fairly easy to obtain.  Went to the Spanish Consulate site, which looks kind of like those old geocities web pages.  Not really up to date, lots of graphics, tacky old-school fonts.  Like that one you had in high school before Facebook.  Mine was called ‘Sean Dillinger and His Pet Dog Frodo,’ and it had animated ferris wheels with links to (inevitably) defunct powerpoint presentations.  It was a news site focused on crime and animal shelters, averaging four hits a solstice.

Back to the consulate.  You need a lot of documentation- bank statements, passports, ticket stubs, vasectomies- and we were confident.  Buzz Lightyear confident.  Homeboy speaking Spanish in Toy Story 3.  Feel you Buzz.

Then came this: FBI criminal background check.

Dag. Called the FBI.  They picked up, ‘FBI, how may I help you?’ That had me laughing for days after.

‘I need a criminal background check.’

‘Get some prints and we’ll have it to you in twelve weeks.’

‘My appointment with the consulate is in 14 days.  Do you expedite?’

‘No.’

‘What if I told you I was a federal marshal?’

‘Are you?’

‘Lieutenant General Buck Torres, LAPD.’

‘Twelve weeks sir.’

That hurt.  We were up a creek.  No paddles.  On life support.  Bottom of the ninth.  Four outs.  Game seven in the locker room after a loss.

I felt like KG does in those press conferences when he’s real introverted and obviously uncomfortable and pained.

I called TTMadrid (always helpful) and asked them. They said, ‘Check to see if a local background check will do.’

I emailed the consulate.  They said, ‘That will do.  Be advised this is a one time exception, Lieutenant Torres.’

So that’s where we are.  Trying to figure out if we can get a local police check.  The funny thing is this (it’s not funny): because we don’t have a record, the CPD will not provide us with a rap sheet.  We might have to go through a private agency with a private detective with smoky hair and a cigarette voice.

But who knows if the Consulate will accept that?

We’re getting punished for being wholesome.

A couple that gets background checks together stays together.

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