Friday, May 18, 2007

And a good morning to you sir!

I awoke this morning, usual time... Begrudgingly slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom.
I was enjoying the invigorating properties of hot running water when there was a knock on the bathroom door. I'd been in the shower for 5 mins at the max.
I yelled out with the old 'Yeaap, what?'
No answer. I shrugged and thought one of my flatmates was being a bit rude, but it didn't bother me.
Knock knock.
'Yes, what??' (Slightly more aggravated this time)
Still nothing. I was annoyed by the lack of consideration displayed by my flatmates. Whilst pondering the possible need for immediate access to the bathroom ('upset stomach', plaque eradication, morning number ones) there was another knock.
That was the final straw. I jumped out, threw my towel around me and opened the door.
Boy, was I going to give some evil words and/or looks to the impatient person on the other side.
Instead of an impatient flatmate, I was greeted by around 10 people clad in police uniform, bulletproof vests, walkie talkies and utility belts.
Um... hello.
I thought of all the reasons that my house could be filled by such people. Do I live in a crack den? No. Have I been storing weapons grade plutonium? Don't think so. Maybe it's because we've been neglecting our basil plant and they've come to take it into foster care. Possibly.

A man whose badge identified him as belonging to UK Immigration very sternly and quickly questioned me: 'What room are you in? What's your name? Where are you from?
Meanwhile, I'm dripping wet looking around at the SWAT team that has suddenly materialised in our hallway and trying not to laugh.
'I'm in the front room. My name's Jeremy. I'm from Australia.'
He then peered into the bathroom, probably to see if I was harbouring any illegal immigrants. Once he realised our bathroom is essentially a shoebox filled with porcelain and tiles and that I wasn't trying to help Pablo out a window, he relaxed a bit.
In a perfect twist of fate, to back up my story I was wearing my Australian flag bath towel. (A little too convenient, I bet they thought.) Luckily I'd decided not to wear my 'Unauthorised Border Crossing Convention 07' commemorative towel.
Anyways, I got hustled into our room... They ran around through our house for a while, checked my passport and best of all, I thought, jovially said 'Well you check out, we'll have to arrest someone else.' Awesome.

They then left as quick as they came, leaving us a receipt of their search warrant and an overwhelming feeling of complete bewilderment. And possibly some hidden surveillance devices. Paranoia!!!

This has made my year. I couldn't think of a better way to start my Friday.

Footnote: In case UK Immigration is tapping our wireless, I don't know anyone called Pablo, i'm just using racial stereotypes, no one by that name lives here. Ok, thanks.

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