As I move on to customs I only realise that I am still wearing the crease of my encounter on my face when the Customs man greets me with fear and trembling. It may have something to do with my black ensemble with black hair to boot. I immediately loosen my face and smile a good morning but you know that smile cannot be genuine. I pick up an immigration form and usually they would tell you to ship off from their desk but e be like say the man was not in the mood to test me so he left me there and kept attending to others. One spree-spree brother came up to pick a form and the Customs guy immediately turned his attention to him. Thank God. His discomfiture was discomforting me.
Moving on, I stop at the sign before the counter and wait my turn. Someone just sped past me and headed for the counter but the immigration officer just told her, “Madam, were you called? Please wait here.”
“Oh, is there a queue?” She asks me. I smile. No, I’m just collecting AC here. (Jesus, what is wrong with me?)
I don’t waste time at security. If they have ever delayed you at Heathrow security you will learn how to pack for a flight forever! My ziplock bag of lipgloss, handcream, hand sanitizer and all other contraband is always already packed, boarding pass in the passport, laptop out, shoes and watch off. (I always travel with a cheap watch. I lost an expensive one in a mad dash to meet a departing flight so I am wiser now).
After waiting 20 minutes past the boarding time at one gate, an official stood at a far end and shouted for everyone to come and queue where he was. So you can imagine the mad dash to get in line first. It’s okay. It happens everywhere, it’s not only here.
Finally in my seat, my seat mates are a mid-aged man and a younger one. I am sat in their middle – the worst, I know. As I am typing away on my phone, Baba opened his camera and started stretching hand in front of my face to take selfie. He was moving his hand up and down trying to find the light. Hian. Uncle, please don’t remove my wig o. I hope he knows that everyone will know he didn’t fly first class with that aeroplane wing in the backgrind. (Chai, child of God, this sleep deprivation is making me really nasty).
Flight was fine, a little turbulence along the way, but then the pilot decided to drop the plane on the ground – GBIM – and proceed to speed towards the terminal, we thought he was going to take off again. Eku ise o. Thank God for a safe flight. I got my bags just in time to meet the Hotel airport shuttle. Ha, it’s raining, and we are supposed to have a garden party. Ha. The Lord is my canopy.