UHHHHH....I JUST LOST A WHOLE POST!! Apparently there is a magic button that erases everything. How irritating. Ok...so now round two of typing my trip to the Prefecture. I don't know if I can spill out the magnificent prose that was flowing forth from my fingers...so here is an overview:
I asked Cyr many, many times if we are prepared for our meeting. Almost to a point that begins to annoy him. I remind him I don't speak or read French well so he has to be the responsible one for this thing. I also tell him I have not read the list, because I can't read French. On Saturday, after a visit to the Marie, he is able to tell me that we have everything except my passport: photos. Yeah!!
I repeatedly ask him. He repeatedly says "yes".
We show up for our meeting 10 minutes early. We see a sea of people waiting in the same room looking at the monitor for their number to be called. We get ready to settle in for a long wait.
We are the first ones called at 13:01!! (1:00) No way...
We sit down and the woman starts asking for things. Oh...there is a form we had. It's not filled out. I raise an eyebrow at Cyr but he apologizes and begins to fill it out. She asks for our photocopies. Cyr shoots a glance my way. Eyes dart to the woman.
We have no photo copies. I look at the yellow sheet and at the top, in BOLD LETTERED CAPS UNDERLINED is a word that looks like PHOTOCOPY.
Susan; jaw drops, eyes widen, head tilts to the side, one eyebrow finds it's way much higher than the other. Daggers then begin shooting out of my eyes.
Cyr begins to be very charming in French. Apologizing also because apparently there is a SECOND form in our packet (which we had, we just didn't fill out) that is not complete. He asks if there is a copy machine in the building. Yes there is. He runs to find it. He leaves behind a document. I think I actually began to show my teeth at this point.
I run to catch him. Through the crowd in the waiting room, up stairs, past the entrance, into another crowded room. I tap (ok, maybe it was a bit more than a tap) him on the back and
We run back through the room, past the entrance, down the stairs, through another group past the guards and to our lady. Cyr again becomes this charming French speaking person repeatedly telling her "C'est ma faute, c'est ma faute." Translated "It's my fault, it's my fault." Uh. Yeah. Meanwhile she sees me trying to inflict mass amounts of pain in him with my stare. I think she understands, the amazement and anger in my stare must translate well in French.
This is where things get really crazy.
She accepts all of our paperwork and then tells us all about everything. She answers all of our questions and we are out in under 20 minutes. WITH my temporary CDS.
Once out of the office Cyr immediately does the right thing and invites my scorn. But how mad can I be? We actually got my temporary Carte de Sejour and I can now have health care and a legal working paycheck. I am mostly in shock. I try to bark at him but mostly just can't believe it worked out. Then he bought me lunch with warm mauled wine, three new hats and we have moved on. He is so lucky things worked out...It's like I told him; "the execution was horrible and you get a D- on that, but the result was an A so I guess you pass."
Thank goodness yesterday was a holiday for this lady. I think she got some sleep. And maybe she felt sorry for Cyr when she saw that I could not take my eyes off him with my Death Ray Stare. Maybe she wanted us out of her office because she was worried I would actually succeed in making his head explode. Either way...I'm legal baby...