Mr. Ditch goes to Washington: Chapter 4

The decidedly gray nature of my work status that summer after grad began to make me uneasy, and I wondered how to explain to Cait that I’d be missing her grad, and probably her wedding as well. I liberated all the charm at my disposal and contemplated how to make it sound perfectly natural to apply for a year’s work visa, stay in the States for three months with approval pending, and then go home before getting an answer. I carefully crafted a response that would truthfully answer the customs official’s question and give her a sense of confidence in my honesty, all without suggesting any further lines of questioning. I swallowed hard on the inside, smiled casually on the outside, and said ”Because I went home.” Bullseye. We returned immediately to pleasantries, and she explained that that anonymous college had passed over the check box for people who’ve just gone home and ticked the one for crack dealers and members of Hamas. My name well on the way to being back on the feds’ don’t-watch list, I breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the food court. I polished off the single worst egg and cheese bagel in the universe, slept through the half hour delay for engine trouble, and woke up in the skies over St. Paul Minneapolis. In closing I have one question: can anyone tell me what those huge white mushroom-looking things are all over the city?