Wat was that again?

A new acquaintance's idea of a compliment -

"When you were young, you must have been really pretty na! "

uahahahhahahahahhaaa

Pass the port please

I applied for a marital status and address change in my passport on dec 17th 2009. I waited 45 days to hear from the police for the verification, then hubby made a trip to the 'round the corner police station.
He came back home to tell me, I need to go there too.
I went. We got sent back for a phone bill from 2009.
We returned. We got sent back for a phone bill from the previous address in 2008.
We returned. We got sent back for .. you get it, we went to the police station, home and back 4 times.
Then, turns out, since I had submitted all those documents at the time of passport application - we needn't have gone back and forth even once.

Finally, the writer guy sits to write down the information. In the meanwhile, I saw him insult a guy because he was from Tamil Nadu, being rude to a girl who didn't have any other address proof other than a rental agreement[true], try to hit a guy with a paper weight when that guy did not understand where he was to sign. He made statements about if he doesn't finish an application in 15 days, the commissioner pulls them up - what about 45 days in my case I wonder.What about police needed to come to the house and verify on their own, what about them calling up people if they can't find them. It's their job, isn't it. When Vc said, I thought you would get in touch with us , he said 'will you pay for my personal calls to all the people who applied for passports'
I used to believe that a police station is what wrong doers need to fear, but being there for 2 hours just waiting on people[police] to just sign a paper, a weird fear grew within me, I didn't want to be there, it was like my skin was crawling, like I had put my foot into crap, like I was in a stinking spot and the stench was attaching itself to me.I didn't want to look at that sick,slimy writer, it's was frustrating to keep a calm face and talk to him, anything so as to not displease him, just so my application passes.
Then, he says, the SI isn't here , come back in the evening.
I came home, took a bath to get the sick feeling off.You needed to be there to feel it.
We went back in the evening, dreading even going there, turns out he wasn't there. We had to settle down for another hours wait. Slimeball people walking in and out, staring like 'beep beep beep's. And then, the worst moment of the day, I heard a scream come from inside, a real heart wrenching sound - why , why as a person who needed passport verification did I have to be subjected to hearing a person being tortured .WHY . WHY . WHY. I almost puked right there.
Shouldn't they do it as defined by coming to my house. Shouldn't they learn to be polite to people who come to the police station. Shouldn't they know how to treat people who are not criminals. Shouldn't they know that they can't expect women to spend 4 hours in a police station. Shouldn't they know that they need to respect women, at least show respect.
I never thought I would say it, but I find it hard to believe that people who are to protect us are the ones I am afraid of.
It's feb 20 2010, more than 2 months since I applied and I still don't have my passport - just a marital status and address change.

et tu?

Ever get that feeling "Why am I here again?" I am currently buried under the weight of that emotion.