I'm back, back in a New York groove (but not according to this asshole)
When I was re-entering the country, the customs agent at Logan airport asked me where I was staying in the US. I told him right now I was on my way to a wedding in Worchester, but that I lived in New York. He said, "You don't live in New York."
Huh?
"You don't live in New York. You study in New York. You don't live there."
Now, I have spent enough time fucking around with immigration matters to know that the word "Resident" is a technical term, but I'm pretty sure I fucking LIVE in New York. Cuz if I don't LIVE in New York, I sure paid a lot of fucking New York rent last year. For someone who doesn't LIVE in New York, I sure know a lot about the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, L, and R trains. And unless I LIVE in New York, I don't know how you can account for the three hundred dollars I owed in NEW YORK taxes this April, or why I have a standing order at Café Loup, or who is eating all the groceries at [###] Greenwich Street, or what this Duane Reade fob is doing on my keychain. GR!
3 comments:
One time I was pre-clearing U.S. C & I in YYC and the guy asks me what I'm going to the States for. I told him we owned a house in Phoenix. He snapped at me "what are you going to the States for? Telling me you have a house in Phoenix doesn't tell me what you're going to be doing there." I said "I'm going to visit my house. I'm going to sit in it's rooms."
Mom
Oh dear M-star. My brother gets grief every time he crosses because he durn went aheed an a-stole one of them there 'merican's jobs. Rotten scoundrel. He has "worked in" Houston for 6 years. I wonder where they think he "lives"?
I love your mom's answer to the customs guy!
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