Point of View: Pass the Port

A shout-out to one of Representative Lee Zeldin’s assistants, Terri Malloy, who, in paving the way with Connecticut’s passport agency recently, got me out of the doghouse and onto a plane bound for Mexico.

I had written in anticipation of the event that it would be restorative and blissful, but that was before I discovered my passport was to expire three days before we were to leave.

Mary, when I told her, was beside herself, though I, not wanting at that moment to be beside herself — which is to say, within her reach, much less her grasp — retreated, saying it was my fault, my fault, and vowing — without having any particular idea how I would — to make it right. 

First, I called the New York City passport agency, which is in the Federal Building there, and was told the next appointment I could get would be on March 15, two days before we were to go. I passed on that and called our congressman’s office the next day, hoping they could do something. And, wonderful to tell, they (Terri) did, by getting me an appointment the very next afternoon with the Connecticut passport agency in Stamford!

The next morning I was on my way to Bridgeport via the Bridgeport-Port Jefferson ferry humming “Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores. . . .” 

The appointment Terri had made for me was at 1 p.m. There were maybe a dozen others. It had been a long day getting to and from, but, insofar as the passport was concerned, I was in and out in 10 minutes! 

It was only mildly Kafkaesque. I told them about my hearing aids, my titanium knees, and my congenital inability to follow simple directions, though they were compassionate. Twenty more dollars and the new passport would be within my grasp in two days, they promised. 

I emailed Terri to thank her ever so much. She replied that the Stamford office had yet to let her down.

And when the new passport arrived — just when they said it would — I told Mary, with a laugh, I was sure it wouldn’t happen again.

“Hey, you never know,” she said as we embraced.