December 02, 2004
i came home
I didn't want to leave Costa Rica, but the logistics of staying any longer were too complicated and too expensive for me to consider. I put my ass on a plane at 6:00 this morning and made it to the Crackerbox 13.5 hours later. I am exhausted.
Also, I MOST DEFINITELY was the target of Customs Officials from the beginning to the end of my journey. My bags were searched thoroughly at the San Jose airport when I checked in. Then I was pulled out of line as I handed over my boarding pass and I was subjected to a frisking and a few passes with a hand-held metal detector.
At Dulles, I was flagged for a "NIT-SEARCH," whatever that is, and I was removed from the line once again to have my bags ransacked again. I TOLD those people that I wasn't toting any contraband, but they obviously didn't believe me. I was treated to a SECOND search before my bags made it on the plane to Savannah.
I don't know if it was my blog, the one-way ticket out of Costa Rica, the fact that I was traveling alone, the Domestic Violence Order still hanging over my head or that little incident of me taking more than $10,000 in cash out of a bank account about a month ago (that money went to keep the Bloodless Cunt off my back--- "child support," don't you know). Maybe I just looked scuzzy enough to ring alarm bells in alert inspectors' minds. Whatever it was, my baggage and I were handled like set of pretty titties in the hands of a horny sailor.
I believe that I WAS PROFILED!!!! Oh! The Humanity!!!
Nobody discovered anything, and I did not get whisked off to jail. How those highly-trained people missed the three pounds of ganja, the kilo of cocaine, the gross-pack of amphetamines, the dead hooker's bloody head and the two hand grenades in my one small duffle bag amazes me. Four different searches and they didn't find any of that shit. Just goes to show what you can get away with if you try.
I think I have a real talent for smuggling. I can make it look just like NOTHING ILLEGAL is in my bag.
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