I fully realize that I haven’t written on this blog since LAST Halloween. I know, I know… As always, I vow to change that, and I will start right now with a funny story that shows how everyone, no matter who you are, or where you live, has a story to tell.
Just this morning, as I was contemplating the end of summer, I remembered something that happened to me recently regarding my writing and laughed at its complete absurdity. I usually write about these situations on Facebook, but I am going to try and shift a few of them to this blog. Zuckerberg doesn’t need everything first.
This past week I was lucky enough to visit the gorgeous country of Belize. As I was entering customs at their airport, I approached a VERY stoic, non-smiling, Customs Officer locked inside his tiny glass booth of emotion. He appeared as if he wanted to punch me with all his might rather than utter a single syllable to my ugly American mug. He sternly asked me a bunch of standard questions in an amazing, yet somehow threatening, thick Caribbean accent. He then got to one where he asked what my profession was. That’s when the following conversation took place.
Stern Customs Officer: “Occupation?”
Stern Customs Officer: “What kind of writer?”
Stern Customs Officer: “Movies?”
Me: “Yeah. And TV. Everything, really.”
Stern Customs Officer: “Have I seen anything you’ve written?”
Me (sheepishly): “Maybe? Last year I wrote on a movie called The Hurricane Heist.”
*A long pause by the Custom Officer. No smile. In fact, he never once even looked up at me, only staring down and writing things on my customs forms. Finally, after a lengthy break, he cracks the world’s tiniest grin and says…
Stern Customs Officer: “That’s some crazy shit.”
Me: “Yeah, it kind of is.”
*Still never looking at me, the stern Customs Officer grabs a separate piece of paper and pushes it to through the glass.
Stern Customs Officer: “Give me your email address. I have some movie ideas.”
Me (confused, because this sounded like an order instead of a request): “Uh, okay.”
*I write my email on a piece of paper and hand it back to him, not sure where this is going to go. He pulls in the paper, studies it to make sure it looks legit, then finally stamps my customs forms.
Stern Customs Officer: “Enjoy Belize.”
I haven’t heard from him yet, but I look forward to the next chapter of my interactions with the stern Belizian Customs Officer that wants out of his little glass customs booth, and into the world of Hollywood.
Like I said before, EVERYONE has a story to tell.