I’m happy to say I’ve never had to be fingerprinted for any legal reasons. Today I ventured to One Police Plaza, a first, to get my fingerprints did, another first.
I am planning a little trip to Italia to be a conversation coach for a host family and this is one of the pieces of documentation I need for that. They need a criminal background check and this is how you get it evidently, if you don’t know now you know. This is actually a great idea and the program, Interexchange, gets props for making sure I’m not a convict.
The grandiosity of One Police Plaza is awe inspiring. The policemen were really nice and not an eyesore and of course being from a small Brooklyn neighborhood of civil servants, they always notice my address. Oh you’re from there? Yes, are you? No, but I know it very well. Oh, cool.
Walking into the place is an endeavor with the security but the stunning ginormous starred banner brought a huge smile to my face along with some patriotic feelings. Everyone here is really pleasant. The waiting room is sweltering hot. Five points off for overuse of heat, along with every other old NYC building, residential, commercial and government ergo, five points off for NYC en general. Five points added for the T8 CFL tube lights and reflectors to save some energy and one more point deducted for way too many of them.
As per nice desk lady, I have to come back to pick this certificate of life conduct up. I guess that will be a second time thing. Ok, woah, just got the fingerprint done. The tragedy of it all! What happened to the black ink in movies past? It is now a simple electronic scan system, on all fingers I might add! What happened to just the thumb? “You’re fingers are dry” “pardon?” Here, put this Corn Husk Oil on, it’s moisturizing and not sticky, says the nice police woman, your prints will come out much better. Well what if I want them kind of inconspicuous. You can get it at most drug stores. You’re right my skin has been really dry. As I’m getting printed, by the way, all I can hear in my head is GET HIM PRINTED, I probably heard it on some detective show but it’s funny because I feel tough. Anywho, I hear another cop saying I’m in pain all day I might as well be in pain standing up, as per my vocation I knew right away what he was speaking of but I asked anyway. What’s the matter? My lower back pain. You should try Pilates. Pilates huh? Yes, so you have an injury? I have a muscle strain from picking up some boxes. And what about that accident you got into, says cop 2. Yea, I got in a cop car accident a few years back. Well I highly recommend Pilates, I’ve had people with your injury in the past and this will help, I promise you should definitely look into it. Pilate huh? Yes . Ok, you’re all done. Awesome.
As I’m leaving the police place the cop mutters something then yells you gotta stop at that cop. Oh oops sorry, potential runaway. I need your ID. What ID? The one on your jacket. Oh, forgot about that. Leaving the sensational complex in a new direction being enveloped by a gargantuan arch that makes Grand Army look small, I can only think, I had fun trying this new albeit necessary thing.
