The Border Crossing

I was on a special mission that entailed penetrating the Swiss-French border. It was just me in my German car, surviving on shear wits and the Gummy Bears I found in my winter jacket pocket. After several wrong turns down shadowy lanes and expertly executed j-turn maneuvering, I approached the border at 30 km/hr. It was then that I realized I did not have my passport. But it was too late, I had come this far and there was a mission at stake. So I roared through the checkpoint and was in the foreign country, a man without documentation, the potential to be a hunted beast.

The mission went off without a hitch, no collateral damage. Contact was made, the “package” was delivered. It was now time to get back to neutral quarters.

I steered the car and ahead saw a truck blocking the lane. An ambush? A barricade? Perhaps.

I swerved around the lorry and teased the gas pedal with my foot. Ahead was a border guard. Unseen were the cameras, computer face recognition evaluation programs, vicious guard dogs, metal detectors and take-no-prisoners intelligence agents weaponed and ready.

I nodded to the guard. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead — the heat was on full blast. But inside I was cool as a cucumber.

I was through. Back in Switzerland. I gave a hearty laugh. Double-O your mother, dude. I was the man.

What was the mission, you may wonder? That is between my wife and her dry cleaning.

Secret Agent Man

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Comments

  • Neil K.  On December 15, 2010 at 9:42 pm

    Ken-

    Well done!!

    Send me your e-mail, please.

    Neil Koffler

  • Laurel Lee  On December 15, 2010 at 9:43 pm

    Love the photo. Very authentic! Just wait until they stop you once, then you really WILL sweat 🙂 Just have your receipts ready and a bit of French is handy too 😉 Oh and make sure that you don’t exceed that 500g limit on meat!

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