A sort-of fractured all-too reality.
Citizen-Applicant had business with Government Bureau.
At Government Bureau's office, Citizen-Applicant met Certified-Bureau-Official.
Citizen-Applicant's question was simple. It was general.
Citizen-Applicant sat, then asked.
No.
Citizen-Applicant was instructed to fill out the form. First.
Form?
Name, address, age, date of birth, Government Bureau Identification Number (GBIN), street address, city, state, zip code. Mother's maiden name.
Said Certified-Bureau-Official.
Only a simple, general question applying to any Citizen-Applicant.
Not requiring any personal information.
So how about it?
What if I just ask?
Said Citizen-Applicant.
No. The form. Fill it, Certified-Bureau-Official said. The form must be filled. We have rules. Fill it. The Form. With a Capital. F.
Overruled by Certified-Bureau-Official again and again, Citizen-Applicant complied. Smeared marks onto a plastic card with a thick black marker.
Completion?
No.
Certified-Bureau-Official said Citizen-Applicant's mother was unknown and asked if Citizen-Applicant had been adopted.
No, not even once.
Certified-Bureau-Official was unhappy. Certified-Bureau-Official asked for an updated address.
Address hasn't changed. In 15 years. Said Citizen-Applicant. And not adopted.
Certified-Bureau-Official requested proof.
Citizen-Applicant, bold, asked the question. Anyway.
It was only a simple one. A simple question.
Proof? No proof, said Citizen-Applicant, and I only have a general question.
Ah, simple then, said Certified-Bureau-Official. Come back next month. Come back next month, and we'll give you Letter-A.
But I have Letter-A, said Citizen-Applicant, and I need Letter-B, can I get it now or do I need to wait until my eligibility is no longer a promise but a reality, a fact? What then?
Then?
Yes, said Certified-Bureau-Official. Starting next month, for no particular reason, come again, here, and you can receive Letter-A. If you ask.
I have Letter-A.
I need Letter-B.
Said Citizen-Applicant.
I do not understand said Certified-Bureau-Official. I cannot give you Letter-A until next month.
I have Letter-A.
I need Letter-B.
Said Citizen-Applicant.
Certified-Bureau-Official then assumed what appeared to be the martial-arts posture called Terrifying Sleeping Dragon. And ceased moving for a bit.
Citizen-Applicant, aware of nearby uniformed guard, did not try crawling.
Under the glass partition.
To strangle.
Certified-Bureau-Official.
For amusement.
Come along then, month after next, when your eligibility is no longer a promise but becomes a monthly fact.
Then we will give you Letter-B, said Senior-Certified-Bureau-Official strolling up to window.
Miraculously.
Letter-B? Said Citizen-Applicant.
You will give Letter-B? To me?
Yes, said Senior-Certified-Bureau-Official.
Letter-B. It will be so. Month after next.
No probs, said Senior-Certified-Bureau-Official, stroking its official necktie device.
That is what I believed all along, thought Citizen-Applicant, in his car, already blocks away.
It was only a simple question after all.