nervouspete wrote:
Yup, he stared in squinty eyed suspicion at the fact that I was only bringing in about eight hundred dollars for three weeks, despite me already having said I was staying at a friends. I then had to give a history of friendship, how long I knew her, how I got to know her... what my job was at home... how much I earnt... arrrgh.
He seemed cheery to the lass a few in front. I thought I'd picked the right one this time. It took a good pint to work off the nerves from that five-ten minute eternity.
I've never had anything like that, even when coming in to get married to a US lady. I had the wife's visa application documents in my hand luggage as proof of our intentions to settle back in the UK, which helped. He loosened up a lot then and started talking to my brother about Green Lantern. And then the customs guy warned me off getting married in a lovely jokey way, telling me I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.
Sometimes they're stern, sometimes they're friendly, but nobody has ever been as bad as the horrible, horrible people at Heathrow the first time my wife came over. That was a complete fucking ordeal and I'm still quite angry about it, even three years later.
nervouspete wrote:
[The domestic flights in the US I've had are terrible. Packed solid. The staff are nice, but a bit fugly. There was one bloke who looked terrifyingly like a chunkier vampiric sweating Uncle Bailey from It's a Wonderful Life. I was strangely terrified of him.
Most domestic flights I've had in the US have had spare seats. A lot of the time there's barely been anyone on the plane. Of course, the one time I was on a domestic flight that was completed packed we sat on the tarmac for two and a half hours before taking off. Luckily I had a five-hour lay over after that flight, so still wasn't late.