The Joys of Immigration, third-world debt and other happy Prime Time moments…

Dear Immigration Person,

I would also like to express my sincere and heartfelt thanks at granting me access into your wonderful country. This process has allowed me the opportunity to learn a great deal about myself, including a number of very important points:

a)    It has always been my dream to send someone – anyone – a scanned copy of my passport. Every single page you say? Of course! That’s why I decided to get what is commonly known as a MAXI-passport, with twice the number of scannable pages for such a special, once-in-a-lifetime-occasion! Around 80 in total! Here we go!!!! My fingers are now a darker shade than the rest of my body due to the excessive scanner radiation, but no matter, I’m sure they’ll grow back eventually.

b)    Thank you for allowing me to prove that my partner and I have not been faking our relationship for the past five years. While the God of Facebook (and no small amount of drunken photos) can prove this, nothing could please me more than providing multiple examples of how I can condense my entire relationship into a single piece of paper to be scanned, filed, stamped and sorted in some dingy filing cabinet, never to be seen again.

c)    I have learned to deal with artery-slicing paper cuts due to the enormous amounts of paper required to produce a single application (note: this needs to be treated with disinfectant and should not be allowed to come into contact with cat faeces). I am also extremely happy to know that I contributed to razing an entire African forest to the ground. My commitment to third-world-destroying consumerism continues to thrive in this knowledge!

Of course, none of this can compare to my scintillating Dutch experience of moving to another country as a couple, and having the immigration services demand a certificate that proved that I was NOT married. And silly me thought it would be the other way around.

So, thank you again, my kind and mysterious immigration friend. We never met, but I will hold your memory deep within my heart. May your ink-stained fingers forever float above visa applications, shining the light of acceptance with your magic “APPROVED” stamp.

Your humble subject

The Immigrant

 

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