La Questura: Italian bureaucracy at its best

Yesterday I was lucky enough to experience the oft dreaded experience of La Questura. The Questura is the Italian office where anyone who wants to live in Italy for longer than 90 days must go to register with the police, be fingerprinted, and receive a card, il permesso di soggiorno, saying that you are in fact allowed to be in Italy Italy. The last time I studied in Italy I completed the first part of the permesso process, but was not actually summoned to the police station until after I had actually left Perugia. Yesterday I finally got to experience the torturous experience everyone had warned me about.
When I arrived here in Florence I asked my boss at school if it was at all possible for me to use the same service that the students at the school use for registering for their permits of stay. She hooked me up with this man, Dottore Careri, who I payed money to to pretty much facilitate all of my paperwork so that the process would be less painful. I felt he was well worth the cost. Anyhow, I received all of my documents from Dott. Careri telling me that I have my appt. at the questura on September 14 at 9:36 AM. Me being American and used to the American rules when it comes to setting appts. thought that I just needed to show up at the correct time and I would go have my fingerprints taken and receive my permesso. Boy was I wrong! Okay, so I show up at 9:20, approach a police man and tell him I have an appt. at 9:36 and ask him where I need to go. He hands me a number (227) and I proceed to a giant room filled to the max with people all waiting in line. The workers are currently assisting number 121. So I spend a half hour waiting to be seen, and when I approach my window and pull all of my paperwork out, the man at the desk just hands me a new number and tells me to go wait in another area of the room. I'm really tired of standing at this point, but I don't want to sit in just any open spot. I found the questura a bit scary. Let me paint you a picture. Imagine if the DMV were combined with the United Nations and you have the questura. There were people of every nationality, and a bunch of varying "ethnic" smells (curry, chinese food, Italian B.O., etc.). I spotted an open seat next to a priest and I figured I would be relatively safe from gypsies, black santas, and creepers sitting next to him. I had a group of young people sitting across from me who also looked relatively harmless. I see that the priest is reading a book in English, so I ask him why he's here in Florence. He was actually a seminarian from New Orleans who was at his last year of school in a neighboring town. I got some information on churches in Florence that offer mass both in English and Italian that have friendly priests. I then proceeded to spend the next 3.5 hours chatting with him in Italian, as well as the young people across from me, while I waited to be called the second time. I had the pleasure of meeting two Albanian girls who are studying medicine and physical therapy at the University of Florence and a boy from Israel who is also hoping to study medicine here. We discussed all the differences between our countries, why we love the Italian language, the abundance of annoying Americans, and our mutual hatred of "i cinesi". Of course, I was the last person to be called from our group, but finally, at 1:45, my 2nd number was called and I had my fingerprints made and received my next letter, which told me to report back on October 14 at 15:00 to receive my actual permesso. I can't believe I have to go back to that awful place, but I hear the 2nd visit is never as awful as the 1st. I also know that i"m lucky I only ended up spending about 5 hours there, since I've heard horror stories of friends being stuck at the questura for 18 hours or more. Next time you go to the DMV and your hour-long wait seems like the biggest waste of time, thank your lucky stars you are not in line at the questura and dealing with Italian bureaucracy!