(Some years ago, I wanted to go on holiday, but I didn’t have a passport. As it happened, I also had a second problem: when I had moved house a couple of times, I somehow lost my birth certificate. This was awkward, since it was the main means of verifying who I was. I managed to get hold of a copy of my birth certificate from the registrar and made my way to my local post office to apply for a passport.)
Employee: “Hello, can I help you?”
Me: “Yes, I want to apply for a passport. I’ve filled out the forms, got the photographs and my birth certificate.
(The employee takes the forms and photos from me and looks them over.)
Employee: “I’m sorry, but we can’t process this.”
Me: “Eh? Why?”
Employee: “This isn’t a real birth certificate.”
(I explain the situation.)
Employee: “But it’s not a REAL birth certificate.”
Me: “No, it’s an OFFICIAL copy from the registrar.”
Employee: “But it’s not a REAL certificate. I can’t process the application if I don’t have the correct forms.”
Me: “You DO have the correct forms. I lost my original birth certificate and had to apply, paying a fee and answering security questions, for an official copy.”
Employee: *thinking hard* “So this has come from the registrar?”
Me: “Yes.”
Employee: “It’s just that there should be an embossed logo at the bottom of it.”
Me: “The red logo? It’s still there.”
Employee: “Yes, but it should be embossed… raised.”
Me: “Well, it wouldn’t be because it’s a photocopy.”
Employee: “Aha! So it’s not the original!”
Me: “It. Is. An. OFFICIAL. Photocopy. From the registrar.”
Employee: “Really?”
Me: “Yes. Really.”
Employee: “You’re sure?”
Me: “Yes.”
Employee: *doubtfully* “Well… if you’re really sure, I will process the application. There may be a risk, however, of the claim being denied.”
Me: “Please. Process it. I’m willing to take the chance. I hereby absolve you of any possible future negative outcomes. If it comes back with a great big red skull-and-crossbones of it, I will personally give you fifty pounds. Just PLEASE process the claim.”
Employee: “Well, if you’re sure, then…”
Me: “I am.”
(The employee then stamped the form and filed it in a tray and shouted ‘Next!’ without so much as another glance at me. As I moved away from the window, an elderly lady who had been waiting very patiently for her pension pressed a five-pound note into my hand.)
Elderly Lady: “Get yourself a drink or two. I think you need it!”
(I got my passport.)
