I wake up early, sleepy. Nerves kept me awake the night before. I check my bags once more, pull them up around my shoulders and head to the airport.
At the "self check in" counter an agent tries to do it for me. I point out the "self" in "self check in" but he insists. I get a bit annoyed and explain I can do it. He literally puts his hands on me to push me away, I slap off his hands and he finally relents. I forget about it as I go through the gates and board the plane. I'm sitting on the plane as other passengers board, we're going to take off soon. A big shouldered security man comes up to the man sitting next to me and asks him if he is me. I offer that I'm me. And he asks me to come with him to the back of the plane and he begins to launch into a conversation about "physical assault" and what not and at first I have no idea what he is talking about. Then I remember the check-in agent. The security man is in a huff, clearly wanting to cause a scene. So I try to flip it around. I tell him I wasn't angry about the check-in man touching my arm, even though it wasn't appropriate. I say that although airline employees shouldn't be touching their customers, I wasn't upset about it and he shouldn't get the guy in trouble. Caught by surprise he says something about how he thinks I misunderstand the situation. I mention that we are all adults and should act that way. He lets me go after a bit of more defused steam. Not kicked off the plane, I gratefully return to my seat.
After a cry-baby flight I touch down to a rain-drenched Seattle. I ask the immigration officer if I should check resident since I am a US Citizen or check visitor since I am only coming to visit friends and family and will return to Japan after that. He eyeballs me. "That depends on how long you been away and if you plan on ever living here again--- how long you been away?" I tell him six years and he asks me to repeat. He seems amazed, which puzzles me. You'd think a border guard would deal with such travelers often. He then asks me if I ever want to live in the United States again. I'm not sure he wants to hear me say no so I tell him that I'm young and haven't decided anything yet. He watches me silently for what seems like a long time, then he says "Welcome back to America." and stamps my passport.
But I'm not in yet. They tell me at bag check that they have to search my bag in the back room. A big portly man with a short slender assistant are standing next to various X-ray machines. The big man asks, "Is this your bag, sir?" I nod, and begin to open the bag for him. He enters 'panic mode' and his left hand hovers above what I guess was a teaser, his right hand popping out like a stop sign. "Step back, sir." He belts out, adding "I'm a trained professional." They tare into my bags, my items going every which way. They finally procure a small cube of packaged soup I bought at the travel department of a shop in Japan. "This has beef in it, sir. Trying to bring in beef can result in a $300 fine." I explain my honest mistake and he lets me go. I pack up all my stuff, and step into America again.
{{To be continued...}}
