Passport for a VERY bad hair day.

Daisy Turnip writes.....

At the weekend we booked a holiday in France for the 3rd week of this month.

On Monday I realised my passport had expired last month! Can you imagine the major panic in our household the moment the penny dropped! Hubby was amazing and simply said, ‘I asked you 3 weeks ago if your passport was ok’. This was followed by a shake of his head, as he walked out the door to go to work!

I’ve a very busy week this week - several appointments across the regions, an application form to complete for my own job (internal restructure) and a list of ‘things to do’ as long as the M6 motorway! So time is very pretty short this week. At 9am yesterday morning, I was waiting for the doors of the post office to open. Once unlocked, I ran in, grabbed a passport renewal form and shouted to the Postmaster if I needed to get my photograph countersigned again. He looked at my old passport and said, ‘oh, you’ve not changed that much, you might just get away with it’ ‘Fantastic’ I said, no need to have to drive to Birmingham to get a friend of mine to sign the photograph.

The photography shop, next door to the post office is closed on a Wednesday! Typical! I therefore I had to get a passport photo from elsewhere! Damn. Although I did run back to the car feeling rather smug, safe in the knowledge that 10 years haven’t taken a major toll on my face – ok, that is, apart from the emergence of a double chin and chubbier cheeks – they must help me keep a youthful appearance!

I then did my very best Lewis Hamilton impression and drove to the supermarket within break neck speed. I continued my new training programme, by running across the car park, skidded to the check out, bought a packet of polos (in order to get change for the photo machine) and the shop assistant took me to where the booth was. I jumped in, quickly combed my hair, put some lipstick on and then composed myself in order not to look like a terrorist for the photo that will remain on my passport for the next 10 year period.

Forty-five seconds later the photos popped out of the machine!! Amazing that it’s so quick. But, it just doesn’t feel the same as it did when you used to use the one in Woolies all those years ago - you and 6 of your best friends crammed into a photo booth, preparing for 4 different images and then having to wait half an hour, whilst arguing over who would have the best ones and who would get none at all.

And so, images in hand, I Lewis Hamiltoned back to the post office car park, sat in the car and filled out the form, ran back in and queued to see the Postmaster for the second time that morning.

Disaster stuck – he wouldn’t accept the photo! Did I look too much like a terrorist!? Obviously – my fringe was too long and ‘it’s not acceptable – YOU will be rejected’ he said! Well, I know how that feels I thought.

I was now beginning to worry about time – I was supposed to be at home beavering away with all the things that needed to be done for work! ‘Would you like some scissors and a mirror?’ Mr Postmaster laughed. ‘Yes’ I snapped. He asked me if I was being serious. I thought for a second, thinking I have actually promised my hairdresser that I would stop trimming my own fringe. Emergency situations require emergency responses! ‘Yes, can I have a mirror and scissors please?’ I then set up a mini hairdressers in the post office! The woman behind the till in the stationary part of the shop, very kindly offered me a chair and a bin to catch the cuttings! By this point I had lost all concern and worry of being embarrassed. I caught a couple of people looking - I just lowered the mirror, smiled and said ‘Passport reject for having too long a fringe!’

A few old folk in the shop started chuntering and muttering about the government, europe and too many regulations these days. Yeah brother, too right!!

I then had a major deja vue moment as I ran back to the car park, Lewis Hamiltoned to the supermarket, bought some more polos and had more photographs taken. As I came out of the photo booth, the shop assistant, who first showed me where it was, saw me and did a double double take! I looked at her, just laughed and shook my head – no, I have no time to explain!!

Back at the post office – Hooray, my photo was accepted and they reckon it should be back in time for my holiday. Fingers, legs and all twiddly bits crossed for the next couple of weeks.

As soon as I got home, I sat down and started to go through my morning emails. My boss had sent me an email at the end she asked if all was well and had I got my passport sorted? I replied with, ‘Passport – after having my pic refused because my fringe is too long and then having TWO sets of photos done and trimming my fringe IN THE POST OFFICE (in between both sets of pics being taken) – it’s now been sent! I now, however, have a very short and very wonky fringe! Hey ho’

Boss’s response: ‘Well you have just made me laugh out loud about the fringe!! That's hilarious!!’

My response back: ‘Hilarious – I can just hear you! : ) I look like some school kid who has a mother with a basin and a pair of blunt scissors!’

She then asked me to send a copy of the photograph!

I obviously don’t have the same sense of humour of Anna! : )

Anyone want a polo?