A little less like hell.

Has it been a year already? Today I had to visit the immigration office in Seoul, something that I absolutely hate doing, which is compounded by the fact that it's such a long way to get there from Bundang. I'm a punctual guy and prefer to show up early rather than late, but since it takes me 2 1/2 hours to get there (god, I need a fucking car) there was no way in hell I was going to get up at 6am so as to get there before the Friday rush.

I knew I was going to get there shortly before noon; knew that I'd have to wait in that hot room, looking at all those desolate -- applicants and officials alike -- faces; knew that the workers would take their lunch break at 12, leaving everybody waiting around for an hour with nothing to do. And I knew that I'd have to go back there in two weeks' time to pick up my Alien Registration Card and passport.

Color me surprised.

I arrived at around half-past eleven, took a number, bought the stamps necessary to renew my E7 visa, and grabbed a seat. And, to my utter astonishment, I noticed that Octopussy was showing on the TV (did they always have a TV there?). OK, that made my day a little more bearable. Roger fuckin' Moore. Aces.

I then noticed that quite a few attractive young girls are working there now. Yet another added bonus.

I waited only 20 minutes until my number came up. I was 120, and at roughly 11:45 they were "serving" no. 111, but an amazing thing happened. 112 was called (*bing-bong*), then 113 (*bing-bong*). Nobody was approaching the desks. Do people just take numbers and then leave? Or are some people too moronic to know the correct button to push on the ticket machine, and hence take numbers by mistake? Beats me. The same thing happened -- *bing-bong, bing-bong, bing-bong, bing-bong, bing-bong* -- until we arrived at no. 119 (is a joke*). Then it was no. 120's time to shine, baby.

I submitted all of my documents and sat there like a dildo while the official examined everything. After a minute or two she said "this will take about 20 minutes. Please wait over there."

Guh? You mean I can get my shit (though that wasn't the particular nomenclature I used, I don't think) back today instead of in two weeks, I asked incredulously. She responded by nodding her head.

And fuck 20 minutes, I had my ARC and passport in my hand in less than 10.

The time? 11:59.

All in all it was the easiest, most pleasant trip to the Seoul Immigration Office that I've ever experienced. Now all they need to do is stock their meagre magazine rack with some copies of SPARK.

* a prize of one of those green potato chips you sometimes find at the bottom of the bag to the first person who gets the reference.