Our hideous experience with the INS

And now that Yingwen’s citizenship process is behind us, let me just say that the INS, which I guess is now a department under the new oxymoronically-named Department of Homeland Security, is the most inefficient, poorly-run, and spiteful organization in our government today. There are a lot of mean-spirited angry redneck assholes that we dealt with in there. We were treated with disrespect and humiliation almost every step of the way. It took a complaint to my Congress rep to get them to finally process her green card. To think, my taxes paid for this abuse. Jeez, If I wanted to pay someone to abuse me, I could have just hired myself a dominatrix!

I watched one guy come out and verbally abuse, chastise, and humiliate this poor old Russian woman, right there in the waiting room in front of everyone, before Yingwen’s final interview. I didn’t catch his name, but he had a blond mustache, and a middle-aged head of blondish bad hair, a grey-but-yellowing suit that probably was in bad taste about two or three sizes ago, and it looked like he was hitting the doughnuts pretty hard. Anyway, he kept screaming at this old lady who was desperately trying to explain something with her poor broken english. Humiliated the piss out of her right there in public. He would not allow her daughter to translate for her, even though her daughter was standing right there, and kept interrupting both of them during the discourse. It seemed to me that this guy could have just politely explained the situation at hand, whatever it was, and then moved forward with the issue. But clearly this guy was out for blood from the outset. He wanted to make her cry, her daughter cry, and everyone else in the waiting room cower with fear. It worked. They cried, people ducked, and he proved himself to be a big giant prick, while I took notes on my Treo. This is clearly no way for a public servant to behave.

Give me your tired, your poor; your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.Ω I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

Emma Lazarus – 1883
Inscription at Statue of Liberty