Today I got finger printed. Not because I got thrown in the slammer, but for my job. In order to get finger prints taken, I had to go to a local police station.
I've never been in jail. I've never even been to a jail. So needless to say, I was pretty excited about going to a jail to get finger printed.
I got taken into this tiny room, a room that I could only figure was an interogation area, with a tiny table, a door, and no windows. I sat down while the officer took my paperwork to get stamped. And I waited. And waited. I peeked out the door at the holding cell. I wondered if there were any criminals being housed. Finally, another officer came around the corner, looked in at me, and told me he'd get started with my prints. He flirted with me shamelessly. It was kind of cute and endearing, even if he was totally old.
I don't get flirted with that much these days.
The new job is going just fine. So far, so good. I really feel like I'm finally in a good place. And that's a wonderful thing.