I’ve lived in Canada for a little more than two years and have been working, playing, and paying exorbitant taxes in two countries the entire time. So when I was told I had to submit fingerprints to le government du Canada, I sat back and giggled.
Of course, who am I to argue with Canadian immigration officials? For fear of being taken to Canada jail*, I did my civic duty, waited in the very lengthy queue (who knew so many people had to be fingerprinted?), and had my digits inked. I felt so Hollywood; so glamorous! Except, of course, no one was taking my mug shot while I was having my prints done. And, I had to pay a hefty fee to get fingerprinted, whereas I’m sure Hugh Grant, for example, did not. My prints and requisite money orders in USD (a fun thing to try and get in, oh, I don’t know, CANADA), were sent off to both the FBI and the great state of Texas, and the waiting began.
I thought to myself “this must be what it’s like to have to wait for the test results you don’t want to see — like whether the sign is a “+” or a “-“. Waiting is always the hardest part. I thought “Maybe I’ve done something and don’t remember having done it? Like that time I accidentally opened someone else’s mail or took the KitKat from the grocery store when I was four after my dad told me I couldn’t have it**”.
Excitingly, my records came back this week. The good news? You can all rest assured that I am not, in fact, a criminal in the eyes of either the government of the United States of America or the state of Texas. What a relief! 🙂 The bad news? I still have to pay the taxes.
* my little term of endearment for the good men and women of Canada Immigration who I fear will take me away to Kingston at a moment’s notice. That, or just simply escort me to the US/Canada border kicking and screaming. 😉
** And who, after showing it to him in the car, promptly turned me around, marched me back inside, and made me tell the store clerk I’d taken it. Because nothing says “convict” like a four year-old in the clink. 😉