The Balabusta and the fella made their way to the county clerk-recorder's office in Oakland, and got a marriage license.
It started out a little awkwardly, since we got off at 12th and Broadway, had no idea where we were going, and had to walk for a ways, but it wasn't hard to find, and wasn't terribly crowded.
When you present yourself to the man behind the counter and say you want a marriage license, he leads you to a computer terminal in the next room, where you are requested to fill out a worksheet with information about yourself, your parents, and dates and places of everyone's birth. Then you hit 'send', and it gives you a four-digit number to take back to the man behind the the counter.
The man behind the counter then gives you a different number, and you wait for your number to show on the overhead screen and lead you to a window.
While we waited, we admired the very modern artwork on the walls. There was a thing made out of buttons and clock faces that looked vaguely like a man's face. I thought it was Dr. King. The fella thought it was Bruce Willis. Turned out that it was the artist's father. The card next to the art did not mention if he looked like either Martin Luther King Jr. or Bruce Willis.
The lady at window six filled out our paperwork, had us sign, and took our $84. Painless.
We also received a booklet formerly entitled "If There Are Children In Your Future". We read this dramatically aloud to one another on the BART ride back.
A successful trip.
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2 comments:
we your loyal readers are still wondering where you're registered...do we just look for grooma and balabusta?
Many mazel tovs and congratulationses.
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