We are Low-Risk.

Matt and I went to Terminal 2* last night for our Global Entry interviews. I know we had already passed the background checks and have nothing to hide and no reason to be nervous, but SWEET JESUS, people in uniforms with guns and tasers scare the shit out of me. I had trouble keeping my hands from shaking when she took my fingerprints.**

The customs office has a training kiosk, so we got to take turns scanning our passports, having our photo taken, and filling out the customs form. The machine prints a receipt with your photo on it, and we really wanted to keep them because they said we’d just arrived on flight 007 from Heathrow. But instead they shredded them FOR NATIONAL SECURITY.***

The biggest benefit of the program is that you’re automatically enrolled in TSA PreChek, and we can use that on our flight tomorrow. Expedited security means you don’t have to take off your shoes or jacket, and take our your laptop or toiletries. Speeding through security is worth every penny of the enrollment fee, really.

Plus we get a super-awesome card to use to re-enter America. I’m assuming that anywhere I show it, I get free drinks or a round of applause or something.

*You’ll always be Humphrey Terminal in our hearts, little buddy.

**My dad was a federal agent.  When we were kids, we went to his office in downtown Chicago every year to get fingerprinted and have mug shots taken. (No, that’s not why I have issues with cops.)

***Or recycling. 

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