When I got the address for an apostille appointment, I thought it’d be straightforward. Drop off, sign, done. Instead, I walked into a scene that felt like a reality TV show.
The moment I stepped in, the smell hit me first. Then the cats. At least twenty of them, darting in and out like furry shadows. On the sofa? A boa constrictor, calmly coiled like it was part of the décor.
The client smiled like this was completely normal. “Don’t worry, he’s friendly.”
Friendly?! The snake was bigger than my arm. I held my briefcase tighter and perched on the edge of a chair that definitely wasn’t fur-free.
The signing itself was quick, but my eyes kept darting between the notarial seal and the snake. As soon as the last stamp hit paper, I practically sprinted out, breathing fresh air like I’d just escaped a jungle expedition.
Lesson: Apostilles take you places — sometimes into the wild.
