Fact: Getting an Spanish ID is harder than, as a girl, grow a small penis.
I already tried three times. Ok, first time the place wasn’t even open but still counts as a try.
Next try, I was there at 9 in the morning, behind a line of, at least, a hundredth people; it looked as the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows midnight release (or so I heard… Err… Ok, I was totally there). An hour later a police man gave me and the rest of the losers around me, a number and told us to get lost for a while; it wouldn’t be our turn until a couple of hours (charming guy, that one). I was back in time to hear my number; I went something like this:
Mean Old Woman: This is the first time you’re getting an ID?
MOW: Where are you from?
MOW: But you have Spanish Nationality?
Me: Yes. Here’s my Spanish Passport.
MOW: That shit is useless (I’m paraphrasing here). I need a Spanish Birth Certificate; they can send it to you via fax, so don’t worry about that. NEXT!
After a very disturbing and embarrassing call to my mommy she agreed to email me everything I may need.
Third Try. I arrived 30 minutes early now, that time there were only 50 people in front of me. After I got my number the same police man told me to get back in about an hour. Here goes a pretty boring story that I’m too lazy to write in details: I had to find a place to print my documents. Nothing was open. I had to trade my number with someone else to give myself more time (so waking up 30 minutes earlier didn’t help at all). I found a place. Blah blah blah. My number was called:
New and Even Meaner Old Woman: What’s this?
Me: Spanish Passport. Family Book. Mexican Birth Certificate. Spanish Birth Certificate.
NEMOW: I don’t need any of this, I just need your Spanish Birth Certificate.
Me: You also need to get laid but whatever (You already know I didn’t say that).
NEMOW: Where’s your Spanish Birth Certificate? WHERE?
Me: Woman, pull yourself together, it’s right there! (There’s also the possibility I just whispered a shy “there”).
NEMOW: Oh, right… We have a problem here. It’s not signed.
Me: It’s a three paged documents, it’s signed on the last page.
NEMOW: It should be signed on the first one.
-Insert here a short “but there it is” “I don’t give a damn it should be here” discussion-
NEMOW: Go to wherever you got this and ask them to sign it on the first page, you filthy whore.
Probably she didn’t insult me, but I wouldn’t know, by that time I already got up and walked away. I hold back the tears; and, when I was outside of the building I finally got the chance to curse them… In Mexican, they deserved a curse they wouldn't understand:
“¡Pinches pendejos! ¡Que no mamen!”
The meaning would be lost in translation, but it’s something along the lines of: Fuck those idiots!
Oh! As a totally unrelated note. I just saw a a 14 year-old girl grab the penis of a 14 year-old boy on the middle of the street. Suddenly, I feel as a stuck up bitch for thinking that my ‘showing-love-to-the-penis’ time was meant to be used on a privet or semi-privet place.