I caught my first glimpse of the international border yesterday.
When I was made aware of our precise location, and realized that the hills of Mexico were even visible from my seat in the vehicle, I grew eager to carry out some reconnaissance. My time has finally come, I thought. Now I will learn what a true fish taco tastes like.
But alas, it was not to be. Our morning quickly diverged from the adventure that I had in mind. Rather than sipping Tecate south of the border, the ensuing hour consisted of much twiddling of thumbs (and in an unpleasantly bureaucratic environment, no less). Good thing [Codename: Daddy] came well equipped with snacks.
I was able to remain calm until the real weirdness began. I'm not sure how I was identified, but my name was called and things proceeded to go downhill quickly. First, the uniforms took my photograph. And then they went so far as to fingerprint me. They attempted to convince me that it was some form of recreation, but I knew better. It was only because of Daddy's presence that I let them get away with it. I don't question the chain of command.
Apparently, this was to expedite all of the air transport that will be involved in my upcoming mission. Thankfully, we're headed out on another training expedition in just a few days. This time, we're on the hunt for Welfleet oysters.