LeislEgan

So I just recently got back from a trip overseas and had to go through the rigamarole of Australian Customs. Border Security was filming so my head was ducked and I was praying they wouldn’t spot my suitcase that was 7.2 kilos over and think it would make a good story. I’d just come off a very long trip and I was likely to punch them and tell what I thought of their show, their values, and reality television in general.

But despite the fact I had thirty dollars worth of pharmaceuticals in my carry on (for a cold, I swear), they kept pushing me through the quick lines. When I get to the end, the first thing I am asked is “Where have you been?” and I reply “Cannes”. The second question I was greeted with was “Haven’t smuggled any Foie Gras have you?”. Foie Gras? Foie Gras? Fuck yes, I wish I had.

How instantly cool is it to know that you don’t look like Shapelle Corby and people do not assume the worst of you? Just that they assume you are an eccentric traveller who likes to dance with danger by smuggling compacted offal from country to country? I mean, I don’t look hard, but I could take someone in a fight. Don’t I look maybe a little bit illegal?

Apparantly not, because after I had swooned at the mere suggestion and had to be revived with smelling salts I was pushed to the front of the line. Ah well.