Getting ID

Everywhere I go on the Military Base except within the compound I have to be escorted. On Friday, Java and I headed for brunch at Echos, for a change of pace, on the way there we were offered a ride, and then on the way back two other cars filled with soldiers stopped and asked me if I needed a ride. I was tempted because I was hurrying back to the B & B to meet Marwan to be on time for my appointment with the Brits to get my ID, but my mother told me not to take rides or candy from strangers. I had an appointment at 1:30 p.m. to be interviewed for my ID to be allowed to go around unescorted, carry a cell phone and drive. I waited for an hour and a half before they called my name. It wouldn’t have been so bad, because I’d had the foresight to bring a book, but there was an American there, escorting an Iraqi and he was condescending to the Iraqi I almost vomited all over him.

The Iraqi was fairly heavy and when he said he was hungry, the American told him that he needed to learn some self-control and he spoke to him like he was speaking to a three year old. As the American was stepping inside the trailer to check on the appointment he said to the Iraqi, “Now don’t sneak one of those sandwiches.” refering to a bunch of unappetizing sandwiches sitting on the stone bench in plastic wrap. When he came back out he said, “Did you eat one of those sandwiches?” I was so annoyed I said, “No, I did.”

Then he berated the Iraqi for thinking that you might start a letter with the greeting Salutations. “Well in Spanish they use the word Saludos,” he informed him. I have never in my life heard the word Saludos used to greet someone. Idiot, no wonder they hate us. And the American was no skinny chicken either, he certainly could have used some self-control.

Finally, I was fingerprinted, my pass that requires an escort was renewed and they said they would send my ID to the B & B.

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