My brother wants me to actually say something interesting, so this one’s for you Richard. I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of it.
My Permanent Resident Card (commonly known as a “Green Card”) arrived on Monday, and there was much rejoicing. Until, that is, I took a closer look at the details on the card, and discovered that the U.S. government thinks I’m a woman. Yep, there is an “F” under “Sex.” No “M” to be seen. I’ve always wondered what it must feel like to be a woman.
I’d like to meet the data-entry clerk responsible for this screw-up and show him/her my rather horrifiying mugshot that is included on the card. This dude does not look like a lady!
To get things straightened out, I need to send in another form, along with the relevent bits of ID that strongly suggest that I am, in fact, a man. This can be done online (thus saving me yet another trip into Dallas), and my attorney tells me that it is actually quite fast. (I’m sure that “fast” is a relative term in this case, but we’ll see.) The upside is that I also need to include a new photo, so when the corrected card comes back, it’ll hopefully not induce a gag reflex in whichever immigration officers happen to inspect it.
