Booked

I've now had my fingerprints taken and checked with the FBI database two days in a row. . . and yet I'm not in prison. Gotta be a record. No, I haven't been getting into trouble. Yes, I have been jumping my way through more hoops than a more respected man could shake a stick at. Done gone and got myself a corporate credit card (though it's really just a charge card and all the expenses come back to me. you know, in case I get rowdy and head off to Atlantic City or something). And the last two days I've been finding my way through port security regulations at the Port of Miami and Port Everglades.

Getting a port ID for each port is apparently extremely necessary. I haven't needed one yet but everyone assures me that if I don't get it right away I'll be sorry. Well I guess I hate to be sorry so I just finished jumping through those hoops. The process at Port Everglades wasn't too bad but the process at the Port of Miami was like taming a wild tiger with a t-bone tied to your leg. Stoopid.

Next time you are forced to enter one of our lovely DMV offices here in the states take a minute to look around. Now imagine a room the size of one of those cubicles in the middle and place four disgruntled agents and fifteen impatient customers co-existing inside it. That's the ID office at the Port of Miami. At one point the staff started leaving one by one until there was only one agent and eight people waiting in line. The agent looks up and proceeds to go on a tirade about how she was only there today to train another guy, etc, etc, etc.

Suffice to say I probably spent two hours waiting in various lines. Good times.

Wish I had something more interesting to write about but I can only complain about the weather so much.