The Big Sheet

An hour before our descent, one of the metro flight attendants came through the cabin handing out sheets to fill out. I think they were customs declarations… not really sure. It was basically half vertically of a standard 8.5 by 11 inch sheet.

As US citizens, Lax also had to fill out the sheet.

When we landed and disembarked I followed Yesh through the standard airport rabbit warren that International travelers worldwide negotiate before being allowed unfettered into the country. We entered a long airy hall with a high ceiling and a row of ten+ desks along the right.

We walked past a lonely looking agent with a large placard "Diplomats", down the row to the first available customs agent, passports and sheets in hand, and passed them over to the agent.

"Too big," he said.

"What?" Lax and I said.

"Too big. This sheet is too big. You need the smaller sheet."

"We don't know about any other sheet. This is what they gave us."

"Who gave?"

"On the plane."

"Go to the first desk," the agent pointed.

"What?"

"Go to the first desk. Go." He pointed again. (I flashed on Russell Peters - "Take it and go".)

So we trudged as a group back to the first desk, passports and giant sheets in hand, and there was no agent at the first desk. The lonely gentleman at the second desk -- "Diplomat Desk" -- smiled, waggled his head and waved us over. I looked over my shoulder and found no one behind, touched my hand to my chest. "Me?"

He smiled and waggled. So we went to the Diplomat desk.