Paris Travel Blog› entry 1 of 11 › view all entries
August 2nd, 2003 – by: mwastrod
So, I get on the plane, and I'm scheduled to sit next to some damn american ( I was already french at that point Luckily I get switched to the center aisle next to some 40 year old gypsy. We spoke French the whole way there, and I was already feeling like a champ. We say goodbye, she gives me her number, and I arrive at the customs toll.
"Can I see your passport?".
I didn't have my passport. I had it when I got on the plane. Just not when I got off. So basically they threatened to send me home for about an hour, and looked apologetically. I demanded to be taken back to the plane. And, long story short, I never actually spent a year in France.
They found my passport and I exclaimed "Je t'aime" for the first time to the hispanics cleaning the plane. Hispanics in France? So next I jump onto a train to my destination... without a ticket. I might add that I had a beret on at the time. Long story short, I spent the next year in jail.
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