If you've seen Seinfeld, you are familiar with the "Soup Nazi" episode -- a man who sells soup only on his terms and if he doesn't like you, he yells, "No soup for you!" Well, today, I met the fingerprinting nazi. :) And I survived!
I should preface this story with an important fact. While many fingerprinting offices are completely fine with walk-ins, the office where I was scheduled is known to NOT allow them. I have heard stories where a couple has tried to walk-in at this particular office, and the woman behind the desk says, "I have to ask my supervisor." And his response is, "There is a reason why we give out appointments." In other words, you can forget it. Come back for your scheduled appointment. I knew this going in today, and knew that this was a long shot.
We got to the fingerprinting place before it opened and it was packed. The last time we went, there was literally no one there -- we were in and out in ten minutes. This time, there was a crowd of people waiting outside before it was even open. I figured we were sunk. We got in line and I prepped my fingerprinting notice, driver's license, and large pregnant stomach in case I needed it. As I got to the front desk, the woman behind the desk looked at my paperwork and saw that my appointment was not for today and said, "Why are you here?" I said, "We are trying to adopt a little boy with special needs and I need to travel as soon as possible because I am pregnant." She paused and I knew it was going to be yes or no. Instead, she said the dreaded words, "I need to talk to my supervisor. Have a seat." And she put my paperwork up on a shelf.
We sat down and she moved other people through the line. And then from out of his office, came the supervisor, a.k.a. the fingerprinting nazi. The woman behind the desk motioned for him to come over and I began watching and listening to the conversation. She showed him our paperwork. He sort of scoffed and asked, "How many appointments do we have today?" She said, "135." He asked, "Where is she?" So, I waved to him with one hand and placed the other hand on my one hope -- the pregnant belly. He paused and looked at my paperwork and said, "You'll have to wait." I said, "No problem." And then he disappeared into his office and closed the door.
The woman behind the desk finished processing all of the people in the line. Every seat in the waiting area was full. Numbers were being called and people were getting fingerprinted all around me. Josh and I tried to figure out what "you'll have to wait" meant -- wait till there was room? wait till the end of the day? wait till my appointment?
AND THEN, I watched the woman behind the desk, who had finished with everyone in line, glance one way and then another. She glanced at the supervisor's closed office door, and then beckoned me over. She said, "I can take you now." I said, "Thank you SO much." Then she smiled and said, "And you are having a boy." She got my paperwork for me, gave me a number, and off I went to get fingerprinted.
Ten minutes later I was out of there before the supervisor's door had the chance to open again. And I immediately began running around in the parking lot, dancing what I'm sure looked like quite an unusual sight outside a government building in a strip mall. And Josh just smiled and laughed, both of us blown away by the miracle we experienced in the immigration office.
Thanks to all who prayed for us today and thanks to you, woman behind the desk, who snuck me in before the supervisor could say, "No fingerprinting for you!." Ha!
