The tour of Australia opening for local raves Augie March has been confirmed for march ... march , hmm , that's very augie . Anyways , that means we need our expired passports renewed . So , today we head for the office downtown and see how it goes . Got our photos , ID , book , walkman , coughdrops ,etc... Should be in and out in 20 minutes I reckon ...

Jesus ! Today is friday . Thought I got there early but I was only a Johnny-come-lately . The Good Dear Good Lady said it'd be a four hour wait , at least . She opens her basement door at 8 am every work day and today there were 80 peepholes there as early as 7:30 this morning . I was number A197 and they were still down in the A090's .
The Good Dear Good Lady patiently explained to me , as she had done to everyone in front of me and everyone in the next four and half hours later , that FRIDAY was a bad day . That's today , right ? Yes dear . Mondays are no picnic either but that FRIDAYS are the worst .

So I gots myself a paper and headed for Tribeca to have a cuppa tea . Like a lot of us , bars do not look their best before noon ( unless you're still at it ) and the ol' Tribe was no exception . I tried to read the paper , sitting in the jag-like car seat beside the window and the grey morning blah of the imminent winter storm . But between the kegs coming through the cold door and the gnashing of the lunch time staffs' teeth , I decided I belonged with the poor old passport peephole . They were my peephole now . Besides they just might be ready for me ...
I walked back to the Maritime Windtunnel , past the Old Flamingo stairwell ( been up and down those a few times ) and down into the pre Passport Office sorting area which was actually the FOOD COURT . A windowless paddock of hard plastic chairs and stifling humpday ness . The Good Dear Good Lady checked my ticket , adjusted her bifocals and like a geologist who's brought a marble by a hopeful schoolboy she gently but decidedly sent me to ' take a seat over there dear ' .
Anyhow , after about four hours perusing every page of two newspapers I eventually made it upstairs to the official waiting room from the FOOD COURT holding tank they were keeping us in . More chairs , more stares , but at least it was on the 15th floor and you could look up Spring Garden and watch the wind and rain play havoc with the hurrying citizenry . Hey , there's my house ! ... Looks bigger when you're in it . ONE EIGHTY FIVE ! NUMBER THREE ! the french customs man barked playfully . Going wons , goin tawice ! I was on the approach , only twelve more to go . Then ten , then seven as numbers nine and eight weren't there for their roll call . Who misses their number after four and a half hours down in the FOOD COURT holding tank ? Had to get home for Oprah ? Not my problem , I have three more snowbirds in front of me and then it's gonna be a fine display of efficiency and organization . I got my application in my inside breast pocket , complete with photos , ID , all that shit . NUMBER ONE NINETY SIX ! One more to go , better turn off the walkman , put the gatorade in my coat and get ready to get busy . ONE NINETY SEVEN NUMBER ONE ! Wicket number one , I shoulda expected .
So I goes up to the wicket and whip out me papers and lay them down . My wicket number one lady doesn't mess around either , she's a pro , like me . Probably been at it since eight this morning while I was still listening to the clock radio . Check , scan ,check , turn the page , check . It's going well . She appreciates my preparedness .The red ink is fairly flying off her pen . She's running down the page with her favourite pen like a teacher scanning the test of her best student . A mere formality before the inevitable a+ , when she stops . What's the hold up ? Is she stopping to admire my thoroughness ? Taking in my ' staying in the box ' signature on page two ? Is she fuck .
" Your gauranteur , what is their position at their work ?" ... She's a University teacher , just like it says on the elegibility list . " It Says College not University " Yeah , but NSCAD IS a University . Practically . ( Look ,Wicket Number One Lady . Don't get all sticklish with me , I've done my research . You and I are on the same team . Let's go , let's go . ) She says she'll look into it but it's probably OK . Probably ? She drops her ergonomic head down to my application once more . Ahh , back on track . Scan , check , turn the LAST page , and ... screeching halt . There's a problem with my request for an expedited process . We need work visas to go down and bring the thunder to the land down under , and we need 'em pdq . Well , did you bring proof of your urgent work ? ....WTF. Where does it say to bring proof anywhere ? She can see I'm being put off my game now . After four and half hours in the dead pub and the FOOD COURT holding tank , plus an hour and some upstairs on the fifteenth floor where I can see Spring Garden Road and my house which looks bigger on the inside , I'm starting to get a little edgy at the prospect of returning anytime in the next five years save for picking up my shiny new pass a port . I don't got no stinking proof ,( I'm thinking , in a Mexican accent ) . I even put musician SECOND on my application , right after labourer . Help me out missus , I don't wanna go to Chelsea , again .
But it's all a ruse . She's sussing me out . Doing her bit for the safety of all of us . Like I said She's a pro . And probably CSIS , too . They gotta lotta interperative leeway these Wicket Keepers . She had to check up to see if I was genuine in my predicament . The earlier buoyant air between us was now muddied unnessecarily . We blamed Osama Bin Laden and Canadian Bureaucracy . Mostly Canadian Bureaucracy.
That top heavy silly- servant filing cabinet ( do they still use those ) would not pin us down however . She understood now . This was more than a backpack and a pineapple machete . This was Rock and Roll and it would not be stayed . She was going to do her part for local music and get our asses the hell outta town . The stamps came out . Papers were signed and then she asked the name of the band .------ She was mine now . " Matt Mays and El Torpedo " I said ( having spoken to Jarret not an hour before in that very room ) . Oh wow , she said , in a I-think-my-daughter-likes-you-guys sort of way . " Well thats going to be a fun type of work then " . You betcha , sister .
It was getting dusky outside now . From the fifteenth floor of the Maritime Wind Tunnel I could barely see peepholes on the blustery length of lower Spring Garden . My tiny house had disappeared into the friday rush hour gloom but I had faith that it was still there ( hope I haven't lost my Francis Scott Keys ) . I wondered if Australia was really a surfers paradise and if their cricket team was continueing it's demolition of the English Tourists . And if Tasmania was like Beatlemania , only in reverse .
That'll be one hundred and seventeen dollars . I turned to face Wicket Lady and casually pulled out my old brown wallet . I slid the weathered bank card from it's worn place . Interac ok ? She took my card and began the transaction , the final countdown . Look out Bondi Beach ! I wonder what the stars will look like , first thing I'm gonna do is have cold Four X and have a look at this ' Barbie ' chick .
"Oh , it says declined ."
Few sentences in the English language piss in your pot like that one . It 's got a terminal quality to it .
But I didn't panic .
I could feel half a dozen heads lift from the floor to my back . The ears attune quickly in the Office and my fellow travellers en transit knew when one of there own was in trouble . Nothing to do but form a circle and watch the lions have their way .
Wow , that guy is fucked !
They musta been thinking that . I would have .
Damn you Le Chateau , you just put me over the top .
For a second I was gonna retry but thought better of it . I'd feel doubly the loser when it returned as I knew it would , DECLINED ! . So , I had no recourse and lost no time in whipping out the pestulent , bloated , sulphiric RBC visa card which has rarely seen the light of day since the RBC monster actually called me up and professed honest ( honest in an Royal Bank meets Satan sort of way ) concern for the grievous state of my finances . Apparently , I was the talk of the cubicle .They had a professional curiosity . I was a financial elephant man . They couldn't look away .
Even so , I wasn't so sure that the credit card from hell , the credit card that turned me into some sorta fiscal Gollum with 18.5% interest , was going to work either . What then ? Boggles the mind ; fifteen stories? The glass can't be that thick ...I could land on a awning . Maybe the Royal Bank awning in the foyer , and bounce into the arms of a evil though agile banker . The bastards won' t even LET you die !
As it was , the Card of the Rings gladly paid the government , it was full circle anyway , and Wicket Lady Number One told me I could pick up my passport in one week .
Next Friday .