 jeanne65
jeanne65
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I went to the United States, the other day, but I'm back in Japan.
In fact, it was my shortest trip to America, who has been there for less than an hour. In fact, I was back in Osaka for lunch 15 minutes later.
As part of the paperwork to sell my house, a couple stuck in the thickness of its documents were notarized, so I had to visit the U.S. consulate in Osaka (officially, the Consulate General of the United States, Osaka, Japan ).
I knew I was near the building when I saw the police attacked a bus and a dozen bored-looking police officers surrounded the residence.
As I reached what I thought the front of the building, there was a big sign shouting "NO ENTRY" in Japanese, and something like "No Entry Except for official business in English. I did a double take at the door, which was really like the front door, and decided to have documents notarized official was probably random enough. A non-official research has been taken out of the door, so I went
I suggested a door before a bank vault. The door was glass, but beaver. I think it is lined with glass, concrete, or something. He seemed very normal from the outside, but it could stop a tank. I'm sure it was designed exclusively for this purpose.
Inside (now on U.S. soil, may God bless the king), that this was correct. "Welcome to America", had to think of me, because nothing less than the experience so far made me feel less welcome.
I brought my camera (because I had taken advantage of being a stop in Osaka for a great camera shop before returning to Kyoto), so I had to get it and my cell phone. I did not have any liquids with me, so I do not have to sell.
A policeman slightly older Japanese with a very pleasant way about him, took my things and treated me through the metal detector, and a body search of light with a wand at an airport. I then shared an ID for a visitor, and was greeted by a second door 15 tonnes for the elevators.
Apart from an image of President, Vice-President, and Section. Been on the wall, you never know it was a government office in the U.S.. No marines. No English. Well, the 5 "thick glass doors could be a clue.
4. Floor to provide services to American citizens on the ground floor. Elevator opens in a waiting room large enough for about three small card table and two benches. More pictures on the wall.
I paid $ 70 it costs to have three notarized documents and waited my turn for about 20 minutes.
We found the bureaucracy, pettiness, corruption and other bad things in government. During my trip to the consulate, I ran into the pettiness in the form of a Sara Revell, a notary or there.
Laws vary from state to state, but with the exception of Louisiana, a notary is a trivial task. Does not require much in the way of intelligence, and that is the most difficult and expensive to get a notary license to go to get a driver's license. A witness to the notary attests that only the person who sings a document is the person who claims to be. In exercising this function, the contents of the document is irrelevant. Do not know or care what the document says.
One of my documents created with the passage of a separate document that I did not bring. I do not wear it because it was not necessary here, but she wanted to see. It was ridiculous, not only did she not need to see it, but she had no right to ask - this is not the company's whore! His business here was to examine the satisfaction that my name was what I claim it is (as my passport has apparently) and that the signature on the document was mine. Oh, and to accept my money - that's his business, too.
So, here was the situation:
1. He already had my $ 70.
2. She knew that I needed service, otherwise I would not be here.
3. There were not hundreds of miles, but she, who could do what I needed.
4. He was behind the window glass 3 inches thick.
5. It was almost lunchtime.
She had 100% power and they both knew. Sara Revell treated me with all the compassion you would expect of an employee of twits positions of low power beyond his intelligence. It just boils my blood - I can not tell you how I felt about that person (because my parents read my blog and I do not want them to know what the dirty words in anger, I know).
After returning to Japan clearly in a bad mood, I had lunch at a restaurant that was delicious Umeda. And the camera store was fun, so it was not entirely wasted day.
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Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
Obviously A snowHead isn't a real person
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Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
Well, the person's real but it's just a made up name, see?
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You need to Login to know who's really who.
You need to Login to know who's really who.
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I am both baffled and amazed by this fantastic composition.
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Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
Anyway, snowHeads is much more fun if you do.
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This is what happens when you type something in English, use Google translate to put it into another language, then translate it back. Brilliant.
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You'll need to Register first of course.
You'll need to Register first of course.
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Well, I'm less tolerant than average.
The first time was indeed great fun. I read a few paragraph just for the laugh. Second time it gets old. It's just a waste of two clicks.
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You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
You'll get to see more forums and be part of the best ski club on the net.
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"The door was glass, but beaver." I just spluttered tea down my front 
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FAQ
. Can anyone explain what that might mean? 
