“Um, uh, w-well…” the cashier began to mumble before my mother abruptly raised her hand to command silence.
“I want a supervisor…now.” my mother demanded.
“Mom, look let’s just go to another post office. They obviously don’t know what they’re doing here.” I said, in an attempt to spare the lives of these poor people.
“Shut the fuck up.” she whispered. Too late, I thought, we’re all going to die.
“Hi ma’am,” said a short, portly man, “what seems to be the problem?”
“I don’t know,” my mother laughed, “you tell me why this woman is saying my daughter isn’t a citizen.”
“It’s because she isn’t.”
“If she’s not a citizen then how is it we have all this paperwork?” she asked, gesturing to the plethora of legal documents.
“Honestly ma’am – I have no idea. This is the first time anything like this has ever happened – unfortunately we are going to have to confiscate these documents…” he said, making his way for my papers before my mother threw herself onto them.
“Get in the car, Lauren!” my mother screamed as she scooped up my paperwork and we made a run for the car.
The postal workers followed us out as my mom started the car. She pushed it into drive, peeled out from her parking space, made an illegal u-turn and sped towards home.
“What the fuck is going on?!” I screamed. “SLOW DOWN!”
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” she cried tossing me her phone, “Call your father!”
I made the call as the tires of her modest Corolla screeched as we went around the corner, “Dad!”
“Lauren, what’s wrong? Where are you? What’s all that noise?”
“Mom is going fucking crazy! We were at the post office and they said I’m not a citizen!”
“What?” he laughed, “Lauren I’m at work. You can’t fuck with me like that when I’m on the job.”
“Dad? Dad?!” I screamed staring at my mother’s home screen.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the window and my mother and I both turned our heads to discover one of Nassau’s finest. My mother rolled down the window and I knew things were not going to end well…