I departed work at 10:30am on Thursday the 7th of January GMT -7.
I quickly discovered that the person responsible for our passports had separated my American Visa Passport EST 2009 from my current Passport. Returning back after 15 minutes to my workplace was a little ignominious but I am glad I returned in this timely manner and did not disgrace myself at the Airport. 
The part of Mexico we are in is awash with Americans celebrating Spring break. Americans like the English are migratory animals tending to defile holiday spots en mass. My driver stopped about halfway to Cabo for a comfort stop. There was a large group of middle-aged males drinking beer like it was their last. I smiled knowingly, not really knowing what it is like to drink beer in such a fashion. Rest assured it won’t be beer when it is my last. 
At the airport, I was again overwhelmed with Americans. I saw queues like I had never seen. I abandoned purchasing a choice bottle of tequila in the duty-free, gave up hope on eating anything and found a spot in a lonely looking bar. The atmosphere was passable, Frat boys on their way to oblivion and middle-aged people like myself trying to remember/forget why they came here year after year. 
My connecting flight was San Francisco. In San Francisco, I was bewildered with my airline’s lounge. United has two tiers of lounge. The lower tier lounge I found myself in had not changed much since I was born. Blending in with wallpaper paper I quickly imbibed a bottle’s worth of Napa Red and ate several bowls of non-descript potato salad. The coffee making facilities did have jellybeans in a bowl. What an attentive snob I have become. 
I was soon boarding my plane and what was to be an eventful flight to Auckland. I had something quite strange happen on the flight. My first time in over 18 years of long haul. If you would like to find out you can reach me with other means and I will retell the story a few times until it becomes something quite extraordinary. Hopefully the retelling the tale will ease the trauma.
I was soon dripping around a rainy Auckland waiting for my next flight. I had a phone message to contact work. Thinking it must be something serious I called. I wish I hadn’t. My prize for being such a loveable Son of a gun is that I am to return to Mexico in 2 weeks for a week-long trip. I am not altogether enthused at this prospect. We had plans. I changed jobs to avoid situations like this. I really am some bodies toy.
Blah.
Still, it always nice to be home.
Maybe I will get that bottle of Tequila when I return to Mexico. I’ve probably earned it.

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