My US Embassy Experience

Today I went to the US Embassy in Oslo, Norway, and it was a boring and trying (mental) experience. Although the security check just added paranoia to my regular ones, the whole design was as beuracratic as possible. Is that how USA is, too, I wonder?

The first thought that struck me was the nonexistense of coffee - not even the people working there were having any. At least not that I could see. Shouldn’t there be a law against it, or something?

Think about it: You’re shuffling papers from nine to four everyday, and you don’t drink coffee? I was thinking of calling Amnesty International, but then again I didn’t have my cellphone - the security guys held it while I was visiting. Insane amount of paranoia, I’ll give them that.

I saw some of the people who’re going to the States with me - people who’ve signed up at the same school/organization (Gateway College). Lots of girls. Tons of them, actually. I believe there’s about 85% girls in the classes I’ll be attending.

One of them had such a tight ass (she wore tight pants), that if you’d put a bag of hazel nuts on a chair next to her, they’d crack themselves out of sheer tightness. If it weren’t for the Indonesian woman I talked to, I’d be staring at that ass the whole time. (I bet that girl is going to Santa Barbara to get herself and her ass some tan, and not New York as awesome people do - like me.)

There wasn’t any entertainment, or at least not any good entertainment. There was this TV with a brainwashing USA-commercial playing - infinite repeats. Why didn’t they show CNN or some other news channel? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to the visa-office to get travelling inspiration. Weird, weird setup, I’d say…

The Indonesian woman (previously mentioned) said she was going to study mortality rates, or something. Sosiology, perhaps? Since I hadn’t had any coffee, I thought I heard immortality, and thought that’d be awesome to study. Like, at the graduation exam you get to kill yourself ‘n all that, and prove yourself to be immortal. When I told her my ideas about that subject she laughed.

Now my future of being an angry norwegian salesman that’ll sell whale-beefs in New York, USA, seems to be right around the corner. A corner which takes about two months to get to, but still…