this thread has reassurred me a little, by its title.
and so there i was, on the jet plane heading back to SoCal. little did i realise it would be my last ever trip to america. i'd just got messed about with at the US embassy for the umpteenth time but headed back to my santa monican life anyhow, when i struck up a conflab with the fella sat next to me.
americans can hardly bare to sit in silence as it is, let alone when incarcerated on a long haul flight! blah blah blah. i get to the airport finally, when passport control decide to give me, and an army of nigerian hotheads, the specialist treatment of searching everything apart from my deepest, inner sanctum!
needless to say, they found nothing incriminating, (coz i am a good boy i am!) but their suspicions of lil old me, were enuff to see me detained for 4 hours! as if transatlantic and then transcontinental travel weren't already fun enuff!
of course my lift from LAX to SM decided i must've missed the flight and had just left; altho frankly she turned out to be such a bitch i woudln't have been surprised to hear she never bothered leaving the beach at all that day!
and so i had to call my new chatty buddy from the flight (who had, in the seppo tradition, offered his spare room up should i ever need it! ha! bluff called!) and so after a lengthy bus ride to malibu, and sitting on his door step for a few hours waiting for him to quit work, i got a couch to sleep on for the night. making pleasant chit chat with, someone who was effectively a complete stranger, i asked if he was 'ready for the daily grind', now that he was back from his limeylandia trip. he said 'yeah, but i don't smoke it too often'
WTF? i thought i had gone mad! turns out tho, from the title of this thread, i hadn't.
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