Part of the liquor license application is to get fingerprinted. (I suppose to make sure I'm not John Gotti's long lost son or something.) Got that done in lovely downtown Sanger yesterday.
Walked into the Sanger Police Department (once we found which poorly-marked building it was) and told the officer behind the tiny window of thick glass we were there for our LiveScan fingerprinting thingy. He escorted us back through the break/training room (where several officers were just hanging out; I guess Sanger isn't all that crime-ridden), down a somewhat claustrophobic hallway, and to a heavy metal door.
When he opened the heavy metal door in that claustrophobic hallway, I saw the cinder block walls painted in a lovely shade of baby blue. While the lovely shade of baby blue was, well, lovely, it didn't lend any sense of comfort and joy.
Through the heavy metal door and into the still-baby-blue concrete block room with the holding cell. It was festive. Ok, not really, but I'm trying to put a good face on it. Suffice it to say I'm glad I haven't seen the holding cell from the other side of the locked cell door.
The officer did our fingerprint thingy and sent us on our way. (If Karl has ever done something really awful he'd better have only done it with his left index finger; it's the only one that just didn't look complete. Maybe he pointed in a threatening manner at President Bush. Perhaps broken into the CIA with only his tongue and randomly punching numbers into a keypad.)
And with bringing that completed paperwork to the ABC in Fresno, all of our paperwork is done. For the liquor license, anyway.