Finally!

11:40 AM
Guys!  Guys!  I'm at work right now on my break, and I have to tell you this!  My FBI fingerprint cards finally came in!  I'm going to get my prints done today when I get off @ 2 and before I meet with Mr. Gene @ 3!  Gosh, if anything else gets in my way this time, I'm driving up to the FBI headquarters (in West Virginia?) for this!

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7:30 PM

Ok, kids, I've got them.  The fingerprints.  They've been printed.  And by "printed," I mean with a printer.  The Coweta County Jail has this neat machine that scans, copies, and prints your fingerprints right onto the official FBI card that took a week to get to you.  Just like a regular printer, really, but I had getting ink smudged on my hands in mind, so I was surprised.

Sounds all groovy, yeah?  I thought so, too, when I was telling Mom and Taylor the story at dinner, and then I remembered the frustrating part.

You know, this is the fifth time I've gone to try to get these prints.  I've also called the jail and the FBI and all that, too.  It's been a long and draining process.  As I got out of the car, I took it for granted that something new would go wrong.  I'm not the kind of girl who has that strong womanly intuition, but, this time, my guts knew what was up.

I waited in line looking more timid than I wanted to, and I stepped up to the window when it was my turn.  I told the lady in a long string, "I'mheretogetmyfingerprintsdoneforanFBIcheck,andIhavethecards!"  I didn't want her to stop me and tell me to go home again, I guess.  She made my heart jump when she said, "Ok.  I need your driver's license, $5, and the card."  What wondrous circumstances!  I just so happened to have all of those things!  In fact, they're all right here in my bag!  I even have cash!  In my wallet.  Which is... not here.

Crap.

I look up at the lady and tell her I'll be back in the most convincing tone my exasperation allowed.  I knew I had my wallet with me when I just paid for something at work.  And I threw it into my car, didn't I?  Why didn't I put it in my bag?  Why is it not on my passenger's seat?  Or under my seat?  Woah.  I didn't leave it at work, did I?

Before I started thinking of kicking myself, I found it laying in the back of the car.  Whew!  I headed back to the jail office talking to myself and mustering my confidence the whole way back.  I'm sure I looked like a lunatic.

After waiting in line again and proving to the lady that I had been telling the truth about coming back, I practically threw my money, license, and the card at her.  And then she said this stupid thing.  "Exact change only."

"You gotta be kidding me."

I hoped to hear something like, "Ha!  You're right!  February Fools!  I've got change right here!"  In reality, she didn't say anything.  I turned to face the rest of the room and said as loud as I needed to for everyone to hear, "Does anyone have change for a ten?"

This one man who had been nice and had asked if I'd found my wallet started checking, and and found a five.  He kept looking and found three singles.  "I've only got eight."  I come up to him and say, "Please... can I just take the eight?"

"I think I can work that out."

I was so desperate to get this stuff over with.  Really.

The man did say he'd give me my change back if he ever saw me again.

Back to the counter I went.  She accepted my offering this time, and I was called back for all I told you about earlier.  When the dude who did my prints finished with the printing and started signing the card, I was overwhelmed with relief, and my eyes got moist.  I gave him my sincerest thanks and nearly skipped out the building.  As I pulled away, I wanted to yell and curse at the jail, but I kept the mean words inside and just waved and told it something like, "I hope I never see you again."

By the time I got home 25 hours later, it was a wear-someone-else's-hoodie kind of afternoon.  Do you know what I mean?  Brothers' or boyfriends' hoodies would work best, but my sisters' will work in a pinch as one did today.

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I hung out with Mr. Gene again today for two hours.  He's really pumped about getting more done with his stories.  Coweta County is going to have a big to do in October honoring the Vietnam veterans, and he wants to have his book ready by then, so he wants us to meet weekly again.  I convinced him to take a picture with me, and I have it here!  See, guys?  This is my good friend, Mr. Gene!  I love him.  : )