Texas_Dave

> Well, today was the day of my biometrics appointment for my I-751
> petition for removal of conditions on permanent residence. Everything
> pointed to this being a relatively painless procedure, were it not for
> two factors -
> 1. My "two year green card" turned out to be valid for ten years, due
> to some USCIS processing error, and
> 2. I had to go to WAUKEGAN, Illinois, for my biometrics. The words
> "desolate hellhole" spring to mind... sorry if you live there, but
> honestly...
>
> So, up at 4:15 this morning so I could make the 80 mile drive and
> still allow time for a few "unplanned directional variations" on my
> route. Fortunately I didn't get lost, so I arrived at the office (the
> one marked INS, next to the laundromat) at 7:22.
>
> It was closed. And cold.
>
> I went back to the car to wait, and by the time I got back to the door
> there were a few people in front of me, and more arriving behind me
> every minute. At about five to eight a lady came out of the office
> next door and advised those waiting that cellphones were not allowed
> under any circumstances, so we all ran back to our cars to hide 'em.
> One girl asked the guy by the door if this was the line for the
> office, and he said at the top of his voice "THERE ISN'T A LINE, WE'VE
> ALL GOT EIGHT O'CLOCK APPOINTMENTS BUT I WANT TO BE FIRST IF THAT'S OK
> WITH YOU"
>
> Well, what would you say? Sure, be my guest, you're clearly more
> important than us anyway, so off ya go! It didn't matter of course,
> because when the door opened he was first to get a clipboard and form,
> but not first to get processed. Clearly used up all his writing
> energy running his mouth. Oh well.
>
> So, the form asked for name, address, SS#, height, weight, eye colour,
> hair colour, LIN# and sex, for which they offered "male or female" as
> helpful suggestions. I'd have thought that by this stage in the
> process most applicants would have got past the urge to write "yes
> please", but you never know.
>
> I presented my completed form to the officer at the desk, and he
> looked it over, and spent a few moments actually *reading* all the
> information on my permanent resident card. I was expecting trouble
> here, and had arrived with a ton of information to show that I really
> did need to remove conditions, despite the expiry date on my card.
> None of this was needed. He stamped my appointment notice with a big
> rubber stamp that read "Biometrics Processing Stamp", and he wrote a
> few numbers on it, plus a few ticks and crossings out on my completed
> form. Then he gave me a number (blue 6, to be precise) and told me to
> sit and wait for my number to be called - which was almost
> immediately!
>
> I went over to the lady with the big fingerprinting thingy, and she
> took a print of my right index finger, and asked me to confirm my name
> and alien# on the computer screen. All was correct, so she sat me
> down for the photograph, telling me that a "small smile is ok, but no
> teeth". I even had the chance to approve the photograph!
>
> That was all done very quickly, and finally I had a small yellow card
> to fill out, which just had three questions to answer, like "Were your
> staff courteous and polite?", stuff like that. Yes they were, and
> very fast and efficient. Every person there called me Sir, and asked
> me how I was, and it was all very smooth.
>
> Finally I was back out and walking across the parking lot, and just
> amazed at how long it took... it was 8:12! Yep, less than fifteen
> minutes! That kind of speed and efficiency almost made up for the
> four hours of driving!
>
> So to sum up, it was nothing. Easy. Doddle. Very fast, no questions
> or raised eyebrows at the ten year card I wasn't supposed to have.
>
> Waukegan, you rock! I take it all back.
>
> Cheers,
>
> Mr Pink
> ~and SecretGarden, who plots a route better than Mapquest

I'm glad it all went smoothly for you. Congratulations.

Although granted AOS almost 2 months ago, I've yet to receive my card or
welcome letter or anything other than the email. Still smiling, and
waiting . . .