I joined the line to the reception desk, where two sweating men furiously gave directions. "I'm here for the written test," I said. "You've got your social security card? ID?" "Yes," I said, reaching for my pocket. "I don't want to see it," the man snapped thrusting forms at me....
An enormous counter ran around three quarters of the office like a fortification, and behind it, visible between the crenellations made by partitions and computer terminals, were the DMV employees. Two of them, women in their thirties, screamed with laughter by a photocopying machine; but as soon as they reached their positions at the counter they wore faces of sullen hostility...
[2 hours later] The man shook his head, "Sorry," He said unapologetically pushing my documents back to me.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I can't take the credit card. It's got somebody else's name on it."
I looked. My name, which by a miracle of typography was fully spelled out on my social security card, is Johannus Franciscus Hendrikus vand den Broek. My credit card, for obvious reasons, identified me merely as Johannus F. H. van den Broek—exactly as my green card did.
I said, "That's my name. If you—"
"I don't want to talk about it. Go see the supervisor. Counter ten. Next."
I went to counter ten. There were three people already in line. Each had an argument with the supervisor; each went away in a rage. Then it was my turn. The supervisor was in his late thirties with a severely shaved head and a little goatee and an earring. He wordlessly extended his hand and I passed him my documents of identification. In exchange he passed me a notice: ALL FORMS OF IDENTIFICATION MUST SHOW THE SAME NAME.
He quickly compared my papers. "You got to show me documents with the same name," he said. "This Con Ed bill is no good."
"Wait a minute," I said, I pulled out a bank statement I'd brought along in case of difficulty. It too, was in the name of Johannus F. H. van den Broek but it contained copies of checks I'd written. "You see?" I said. " The signature on those checks is exactly the same as the signature on my social security card and green card. So it's obviously me in both cases."
He shook his head, "I'm not a handwriting expert," he said. "I need the same name."
"OK," I said calmly. "But let me ask you this. The green card's good, right? And the name on the Con Ed bill and the bank statement is the same as the name on the green card."
The supervisor reexamined my green card. "Actually, you got yourself another problem," he said with a smile. "See this" The name on the green card is not the same as the name on the social security card."
I looked: on the green card was typed "Johanus." I'd never noticed it before.
I said, "Yes,wee, that's just an obvious clerical error mane by the INS. The photograph on the green card is obviously me." The supervisor looked unmoved, so I added, "Either that, or there's somebody out there who looks exactly like me and has exactly the same name, and I happen to have stolen his green card."
"Not exactly the same name, " the supervisor said. "And that's where we have a problem. You want me to give you a learner permit? Ok, but who are you? Are you Johanus"—he pronounced the last two syllables as an obscenity—"or are you Johannus?"
"Come on, let's not play games," I said.
"You think I'm playing a game?" He was actually baring his teeth. "Let me remind you sir, you seem to be in possession of somebody else's green card. I might just get suspicious about that. I might just have to start looking into that."
This man was dangerous, I realized. I said, "You really want me to go down to the INS and get a new green card? That's what you want to get out of this?"
"I don't want you to go there," the supervisor said. Now he was pointing at my chest. "I'm forcing you to go there."
"What about my written test?" I said, pathetically showing him my twenty out of twenty.
He smiled. "You're going to have to take it again."
From Netherland by Joseph O'Neill (New York: Pantheon Books, 2008. 64-68)
After House of Sand and Fog, Behzad seemed be keen on the Persies and waxed his eyebrows for his role as the villian Nizam. 
I'm not gonna lie, that's a badass scowl he's got going on and I think I have that belt.
looks, acts, and sounds like a tool.
Last, but not least, Gemma Arterton hopefully will manage to cake enough foundation over her freckles for her role as the princess of Persia.
Don't miss out on Swarthier than thou Jake in this PoP sneak peak!
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