The Happy Diplomat Agent and Anger Man

Lax took over the conversation, explaining that we had been given these sheets on the plane, we have no knowledge of any smaller sheet, and we were told to bring our big sheets to the first desk.

The Diplomat Agent smiled and waggled and took my passport and sheet. He checked my visa. He then began to systematically fold my big sheet, hiding the unnecessary questions and/or bigness, until it was small. Then he scanned it on his small sheet scanner.

Rocket science.

The five of us were standing in a group at the Diplomat Desk, as we were all travelling together. The Happy Agent was processing our passports and sheets one by one. Folding efficiently, as if he does it daily.

And then I felt a chill invading my personal space to my right. Anger Man was standing too close, shoving his passport and sheet to the Happy Agent, clearly trying to jump the line on Those-Whose-Fault-It-Is. His quick aggressive movements had drawn the attention of others and shortly Happy Diplomat Agent was mobbed with passport pushers.

As my administrivia was finished I disengaged from the mob, and the overwhelming gloom of Anger Man, and headed toward the Promised Land.