23rd August 2019
It would be very naive of me to think the 11.30 slot at the American Embassy would be just for me.
“Good Morning Mr Butt, the Ambassador will see you now”.
Instead I was greeted by hoards of bodies of every size, shape and colour in a snaking queue of which I had to join.
The email I was sent informed me that I should get there thirty minutes early, so I did, but it made no difference they were running late, so I had to wait.
Waiting is the name of the game, and although I dressed as smart as I could it made no difference, I was shuffled in with everyone.
I think there should have been two lines, one marked “Smartly dressed Englishmen” and the other for “ The scum of the earth”
At the end of three hours of utter boredom, my world collapsed.
My application for a tourist visa was denied, and it was all my fault.
I happened to mention that I would like to explore the possibilities of applying for permanent residency, that was it.
I then had a lecture on the legality of going to the US on this type of visa with the intention of staying. I tried to pull back by saying that I wouldn’t explore, but his answer was that he had heard me say it, and he couldn’t ignore it.
He said I was applying for the wrong type of visa, and suggested I go for an Immigrant visa instead.
I was in shock and numb, and I still had to tell Kelli.
This was the worse conversation I ever had, and I guess it was the same for her.
The process is so automatic there was nobody to talk too, and get advice. I felt such a failure, and I was due to meet up with Tim Wallace afterwards, needless to say I was a bit pre-occupied for that.
I got back to the car for the drive down to Barrington. My head was spinning, I felt sick, and I didn’t know what to do next.
Another Lifetime to go 