One of my favorite things about going to the States is the US border control. When they are done exaiming my passport, they always look up for a split second and say "Welcome home."
The way I usually test this out is to head straight to the ladies room and try and flush a few things down the toilet. If it works, I know I'm home.
In America, murderers have gotten rid of dead bodies by flushing them down the toilet, bit by bit. In Europe, they haven't figured out how to design plumbing systems that can handle a tampon. I kid you not--the boxes in the States that proudly proclaim "flushable!" in Europe advise you to keep the reminder of your lost motherhood opportunity in the trash--the toilets won't take em.
But tonight, as I disembarked and ran headlong into Newark's sweaty embrace, I couldn't help but think about how amazing America is. The plumbing! What plumbing!
Before I had a garbage disposal I used the toilet. Be careful with big bones though. Nothing more embarrassing than having to call a plumber to take the toilet off to get a huge stuck bone out.
Embarrased | May 8, 2009 11:57 AM | Replyyou couldnt wait a few weeks till you went to new york? hate you.
sheila | May 3, 2009 11:09 PM | Reply<3