Time travel is real. I know this, because I've just experienced it. When I boarded a Boeing 747 (read: really huge two-story plane) at SFO International airport it was Tuesday, September 4. I arrived in Sydney on the morning of Thursday, September 6. What happened to September 5? For me, it's as if it never happened. During this 24 hour period I practically didn't exist. Trying to sleep in my impossibly uncomfortable seat of 51F, I just lingered somewhere in earth's atmosphere. My 2012 calendar has only 364 days. It's a rather puzzling phenomenon--time travel.
I was given the most warming welcome upon my arrival at the airport in Sydney. When I walked through customs and immigration like a zombie, exhausted and dizzy from my 27 hour journey from Houston, I handed two officers my passport and claims ticket. They glanced it over and one whispered loudly to the other, "American. She'll be here for 6 months. Traveling alone. Could be suspicious." At least I'm pretty sure that's what they said. I assumed they were joking with me, and I let out a defeated chuckle.
Then they ushered me into a special line, which wasn't much of a line at all since I was the only person standing in it. The female officer asked me loads of yes or no questions as she emptied the entire contents of my backpack. She scanned each item with an iron detector thingy, which is used to trace illicit drugs and explosives and such. She rummaged around in my carry-on bag and with her gloved hand pulled out an illegal item--a banana. I was caught red-handed, trying to smuggle an exotic fruit from a Peet's Coffee shop across the Australian border. After I explained how I had forgotten to throw it away, she just smiled and asked, "Would you like me to dispose of it?"
"Sure, it's pretty bruised."
"We have bananas here in Australia."
"That's great."
"Enjoy your stay!"
Then they ushered me into a special line, which wasn't much of a line at all since I was the only person standing in it. The female officer asked me loads of yes or no questions as she emptied the entire contents of my backpack. She scanned each item with an iron detector thingy, which is used to trace illicit drugs and explosives and such. She rummaged around in my carry-on bag and with her gloved hand pulled out an illegal item--a banana. I was caught red-handed, trying to smuggle an exotic fruit from a Peet's Coffee shop across the Australian border. After I explained how I had forgotten to throw it away, she just smiled and asked, "Would you like me to dispose of it?"
"Sure, it's pretty bruised."
"We have bananas here in Australia."
"That's great."
"Enjoy your stay!"
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