I Failed Fingerprinting?

Today was supposed to be a semi-productive day for me.

Although I am on a break between the end of nursing school and the beginning of the mad frenzy that is the study preparation for the NCLEX (nursing license board exam), I felt like a bit of a slug just lying about doing nothing. So I figured, might as well check another requirement off my list as I inch ever closer to that elusive test date.

The next requirement on my to-do list is fingerprinting. To be perfectly honest, I'm not really sure why we are required to do this. Perhaps the reasoning is that our college will be assured that they are not sending convicted felons off to the testing centers. I just know that I am required yet again to dig into my pockets for the $62.00 fee, and will probably end up having to be fingerprinted again once I am hired as an RN. Seems a bit redundant to me, but I've learned that sometimes it's just easier to dance the dance, rather than argue the steps.

So, to continue with this fascinating voyage, (you are fascinated, admit it), I jumped on my computer last night and found the closest fingerprinting location, set up a morning appointment, paid the required fee, printed out a map, and never once talked to a live human being. Ah technology! Who needs people when we can get what we need with a few simple keystrokes? 

You're thinking my story is going to get dark and ugly at this point, and you would be correct. I woke up this morning, feeling productive for a change, and made it to my appointment with 10 minutes to spare, necessary paperwork in hand. This is where the story turns from a G rating to Mature Audiences Only. Standing outside in the frozen 16 degree entrance, I discovered the ugly truth: The office building was empty. Not a soul in sight. Nor an employee, for that matter. Lovely, I thought to myself. Only I don't think the actual word "lovely" was anywhere near the language center of my brain. Several other would-be felons also brushed up on their classic french as they, too learned of the vacant building.

To make an incredibly heart-stopping story short, I climbed back into my car, called a Real Person, and found out that they had no idea why no one was at this office, but they would be happy to reschedule my appointment. I would have been happy ranting. I wanted to question why this happened, but instead, I danced.

I'll be back there tomorrow.

Hopefully for fingerprinting, not dancing.