The Tatas Story...

Ok, so clearly my Facebook status has intrigued some people. Here is the full story for your reading pleasure.

So, as we may have already concluded from previous posts, the lawyers at my school are sometimes (most times) not that smart. They keep finding "solutions" for my fellow Canadians and me to stay in the country, but they always backfire. The last one, as you may recall, was the saga of the explosive diarrhea, which got us a "tolerated residence" stamp that was supposed to be good until December 26th.

Yesterday, December 22nd (pre-visa-expiry, you may notice), I flew from Vienna to Zurich, then from Zurich to Montreal. In Zurich, I had to go through passport control. I was not stressed about it all, but maybe I should have been... when I got up to the counter, the officer (whom I cannot refer to as he or she, because I honestly couldn't decide) looked through my passport at my stamps, then looked back up at me and asked me whether or not I had actually entered the EU in August. I said yes (there was stamp, how could I lie?). The officer then proceeded to count the number of months I'd ben around on his/her fingers and came up with four... one too many. We then had a brief discussion in which I pointed out my "tolerated residence", thinking this would clear things up. False. I was met with nothing more than I blank stare and a "I've never seen this before, we'll have to check it." A quick phone call later, another officer arrived, took my passport and boarding pass and walked away. Super. He was back within 5 minutes, and he lead me to the immigration part of the airport (i.e. the police station within the airport). I waited there about 10 minutes, stressing about how much trouble I was about to get in and about how my flight was boarding in 10 more minutes.

Finally, the man came back out with my passport. He said "I've never seen this stamp before. This is nothing." Again, wonderful. Then, his gaze dropped to my boobs. It stayed there for the entire remainder of the conversation. As he stared at my bosom, I told him that this was all I had, this was what the Slovak police gave me. He continued to say it was nothing, and that I wasn't supposed to stay in the EU longer than 3 months (he also counted on his fingers... this makes me feel much better about my first graders' math skills) and that overstaying that time incurs a fine of 580 Swiss Francs. He was very stern with my breasts. Exasperated, I told him there was nothing I could do, so to just get on with it. I figured I would just pay the fine and get on with my day... it was not worth missing my flight. I said "So, what do I do?" His answer: to shove my passport at my boobs (where he was still looking) and say "Go to your flight." I fled, and didn't look back.

Apparently, a good stare at my tatas is worth at least 580 Francs. Good to know.