Two months ago, I spoke to a man named Ralph regarding a Job. It was in Transportation but required a TWIC card. Essentially, he would, "1099," me, rather than consider me a full-time employee. Therefore, I didn't take the Job. I received another phone call, once again, they wanted me to have a TWIC Card. They didn't offer much, so I didn't pursue things further.
Needless to say, I received enough phone calls requiring a TWIC. Because of the seemingly inflated demand, I applied. Essentially, it is the same background check as the one given when applying for a Hazmat endorsement. However, this one is done by the TWA.
The first frustrating thing I noticed, the TWA Website indicates a preregistration requirement. After preregistering online, an email is sent with the address and date of the application appointment. I spoke with a friend, whom has a TWIC card, who told me just go down there and apply. He didn't preregister before getting his. I thought about it, and based on what the Website indicated and the length of time he had his, I decided to wait until my day.
My day came and I walked in to a large office with two employees, a camera, and a fingerprint pad. There was one other man applying and numerous applications laid out in advance, on the desk.
"Are you here to pickup a card or apply," the lady asked. She had a book opened in the right corner of her desk and a bottle of water. She looked polished enough to attend a Presidential inauguration.
"I am here to apply, I preregistered online," I replied, hoping I wasn't sitting home four weeks while decent paying positions were filled. Somehow, what my friend said laid in the back of my mind. I sensed his suggestion was right.
"Did I need to preregister?" I asked.
"You don't need to but it might help, here's an application and a pen, fill it out over there," she said. I paused momentarily and realized three things didn't happen. She didn't look up or have any information from my preregistration, She didn't know I was coming, and I received the same application as anyone walking in off the street.
Four weeks passed --after applying-- when I received a letter in the mail. I am not a terrorist threat! To all those who do or don't know me, lets make it clear, I have little potential threat, as a terrorist. Born and raised in New Jersey, with a clean record, an American family and Daughter living here is not enough anymore. Despite working on docks, oil refineries, power plants in the past, I needed this card to show I am safe to work in these places now. Ironically, I have been doing Airport deliveries for the past five years without one. More ironic, the card cost $135.00 and expires in five years (Follow the Money).
A few weeks passed, with my card sitting at their office. I was curious, "why didn't they mail it to my house?". I thought, maybe they don't want the wrong person to receive the card. Finally, I decided to go pick it up. The jobs of interest are no longer available, but enough time has passed.
The TWIC office moved. It is now behind a Physical Therapy office. I arrived and saw little signs in the Windows, "TWIC Enrollment". When entering, I was greeted by a Women that worked for the PT office, "Are you here for TWIC too... follow the signs".
I walked passed them, down a hallway, a sign pointed to the left. I turned the corner where a man was conducting a pre-employment physical. A foldout table with foldout chairs sat in the middle of the floor. All the chairs were pulled far from the table, as if everyone felt odd to sit at the table. To me, it felt like I interrupted an AA Meeting.
A man looked up at me, "What's up?" he said. He looked casual wearing jeans and a button up shirt. His ears were pierced with larger than normal hoops dangling down. His hair looked oily and weighted.
I was a bit taken back from his appearance and hearing, "What's Up?". I thought I missed another arrow and began to look around as I responded, "I'm looking for the TWIC offices, I think I missed a sign. I'm sorry for bothering everyone".
"Nah dis-it bud, what ya need," he said.
"I'm here to pickup my TWIC Card," I replied.
"Ahh, yeah, ya got your license?" he asked.
"Sure here you go"... pulling my wallet from my pocket.
"Have a seat my man... over there," he said pointing to the back of the room. He turned and walked away.
I sat there for a few minutes and began to wonder, "Does he know I'm here to get my card not get fingerprinted?". I looked at the clock and realized Scot would be leaving school soon and Michele went to the City. I asked what was happening.
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