I just couldn't get off that train

My level of subway insanity descended to previously unrealized nadirs yesterday, but for once, 'twasn't the fault of the MBTA, but my own.

Just to liven the blog up, I will relate my story of the consulate to the tune of "Charlie on the MTA"

Let me tell you the story
Of my appointment at the embassy
On a tragic and fateful day
I put my papers in my pocket
Shouted goodbye to my roomie
And went to ride on the MBTA

I handed in my dimes
At the Wash. Square Station
And I barreled towards the Avenue of St. James
When I got there the bureaucrat told me,
"One more paper!"
I was in for a whole lot of pain.

Chorus:
Will my visa ever return?,
No, they'll never return?
And its fate is still unlearn'd
It may hide forever
'neath the file folders of Espana
It's the visa who never got returned.

Now all day long
I rode through the tunnels
Saying, "What will become of me?
How can I attach three photocopies?
Print these ten items?
Or convince them that I haven't committed any felonies?"

Now half way down
Back to the Wash. Square station
Somwhere around a quarter past twelve
I saw that all I would need to do
Was trust the good folks at IES (IES!!)
And they would see me through.

As my train roared on
back towards downtown Boston
I looked around and sighed:
"Well, I'm sore and disgusted
And I'm absolutely busted;
If I had just read this packet, I could've spared myself this ride."

Now you citizens of Boston,
Don't you think it's a scandal
That smart people like me who think they're doing a-okay
Should miss the details on some papers in my bundle
And had to ride 6 times to get my visa on the good, ole MBTA!


Hope you enjoy!