My Day in Airport Jail

As you probably know, I've been looking forward to coming back to the UK for months.  To be back with Callie, to spend time together as a family...just us, really and truly together as a family for the first time. With no stress over the fact that she's married, no being awkward around her husband. Just together, in love, committed and monogamous lesbians.

So this is the story of my return to the country.  Not quite the romantic reunion I was hoping for.


(Details are pieced together as best I can remember. Times are approximate.)

10:50 am
I'm in line at border patrol and I'm feeling a little nervous.  I'm staying the maximum of 6 months (a US citizen can visit the UK without a visa for up to 6 months) and I'm afraid they're going to question me about it.  I'm wondering if I should have bought a ticket back for September - for my sister's wedding, even though she hasn't set a date yet - and written that my stay is 3.5 months, rather than 6.  But it's too late now. I've filled out my landing card for 6 months, I have a return ticket for December, and I'm next in line.

11:00 am
The border agent looks through my passport and sees my student visa. He scribbles out "not employed," says "Why didn't you write student? Unemployed looks bad" and precedes to write "student" for occupation on my landing card.  At this point I'm a little too nervous to say anything.  Then he asks me where I'm studying, and I finally spit out "I'm not anymore, I withdrew from my course and now I'm visiting."  He says I am unemployed after all and gives me a look.

Mean Border Agent asks what I'm doing in the UK, and I tell him I'm visiting a friend.  Her husband is deployed with the navy for 6 months and I'm taking an extended mental health break.  Mean Border Agent asks about Callie, how long I've known her and how we met.  He asks about her family, if she has kids, how old they are, what she does for a living.  He asks if I will be helping out with the kids at all, and I say of course I will, playing with them, putting them to bed occasionally to give her a break, things like that.  He tells me that doesn't sound very relaxing, that it sounds like I will be babysitting in exchange for free accommodation.   I say that's not at all what it is.  Mean Border Agent tells me he thinks it is.

Mean Border Agent asks if I have a return ticket, so I show him.  He asks if I have any job applications or CVs in my bag, I say no.  He asks if I have any documents in my bag, I say no.  He asks what I'm holding. I show him the "letter of invite" from Callie.  He circles the part that says "she will not need to seek employment as all accommodation will be provided." He tells me that looks suspicious, it's not the type of thing someone would write in a letter of invite to visit.  I told him we'd looked on the internet and saw that it should show that a visitor will not need to work in order to support themselves while here. He tells me he is going to submit me for further questioning.

Mean Border Agent tells me I'm here for too long, I should take a break in my own country. I ask if he wants me to change my ticket, that my sister is getting married in September. He asks if I was just going to miss the wedding.  I say no, I was planning on changing my ticket or taking a trip back.  He shouts at me that that's not what my return ticket shows.  I told him I don't know the exact date yet. He gets annoyed with me and tells me to have a seat and walks away.


11:20 am
I quickly try to text Callie to let her know I've been stopped at border patrol, they might need to speak with her.  A border agent tells me to put away my phone as I'm not allowed to be using it.

I realize I have all of Toby's (my cat) travel documents in a folder in my backpack.  I freak out, wondering how to explain to Mean Border Agent that I'm bringing a cat to the country for 6 months, because I know there's no way he would understand that I love him so much I don't want to leave him behind that long.  That he was my therapy all through school when I was so depressed.  That we adopted him here then he came back to the US with me, but the kids miss him so I'm bringing him back.  He wouldn't understand any of that! I try smooshing the folder in my bag, putting it under my clothes.  Then I freak out, realizing they will search my bag much more thoroughly than that.

Commence nervous stomach.

11:40 am
I ask a woman organizing the lines at border patrol if I'm allowed to use the bathroom while I'm waiting.  I say I can leave my phone if they're worried about me using it.  She says that's ok and make sure I take my bags.

I go to the bathroom and while there quickly text Callie that I'm deleting all our messages, just in case. She says she's doing the same.  Then I take the folder containing all of Toby's documents and shove it in a tampon receptacle.

11:45 am
I return to border patrol, and the woman who allowed me to use the toilet tells me they're looking for me.  My heart sinks as I prepare for Mean Border Agent (or possibly a Meaner Border Agent) to return for a more in-depth grilling.  A man and a woman who are quite nice (but I'm still shitting myself) take me to collect my bag from baggage claim.  It's the only suitcase still sitting there.

We walk into the luggage inspection room and I suddenly remember I've packed the strap-on.  I say a silent prayer that whoever sees it is too embarrassed to ask about it, or will at least assume it's just my travel dildo.  I prepare myself to have to explain that I'm a lesbian in a foreign country for 6 months so of course I expect to get laid a time or two, and hope no one assumes my "best friend with a husband" is actually my lesbian lover.  But in reality, I'm preparing myself to die of embarrassment.

The man inspects my backpack, asks me to take out all my cash and my bank cards and credit card for inspection.  The woman inspects my carry-on and my suitcase with the damning sexual evidence.  She finds my anti-depressants and asks if I've already taken them today.  She rifles through my clothes. I see her come to the bag containing my sex toys and THANK THE LORD she quickly moves on and doesn't pull anything out.  She opens the front pocket, where finds a a letter with my teaching credentials for the UK and gives it to the male immigration officer.  Then my heart stops again as I see her pull out all the photos I've brought with me (including photos of Callie and I kissing) and every single card Callie has given to me. Birthday card, Christmas card, anniversary card, all signed with the name of the friend I'm visiting, telling me how much she loves me.

When the male agent asks what she found in my bag, I want to hug her when she says "just clothing and cosmetics."

12:30 pm
I'm taken to the immigration office, where I'm offered a drink of water.  The male and female officers who inspected my baggage take me back to have my photo and fingerprints taken.

I'm returned to the security officers.  The female pats me down. (And asks why I'm taking antidepressants, why so many people in America are on them. Gives me a "therapy lesson" on eating well, and doing things that make me happy, rather than relying on drugs. At the end of all this, still several hours later, she tells me "no more tablets while you're here. And maybe you can even meet a nice man for romance")   The male security officer leads me to a room where we will store my luggage while we wait.  I'm offered more water and food, but my stomach is too nervous to eat.

1:00 pm
The officer calls Callie, says it's immigration and they've got me there and gives her a number where she can call me.  He leads me into a waiting room, shows me the pay phone, the stack of magazines, the television showing some old crappy film, the booklet that explains what you're entitled to whilst being held in immigration, the toilets.  He tells me that if my friend hasn't called in 5 minutes we will call her again.

1:05 pm
The nice security officer comes to check on me and see if she's called yet.  She hasn't so we phone her again.  She wasn't able to write down the number because she had two screaming kids and no pen.  She put the number in her cell but when she ended the call, that number was lost.  Now she's tracked down someone with a pen so she can write the number down. I tell her she can call me as often as she wants, to check in.

Callie calls me on the pay phone in the holding room (waiting room...but it feels much more scary than that!).  We're both worried they may be listening in on our phone calls somewhere, so we're both very different than usual.  No "I love you" no "baby," just in case.  I ask her if she could let my mom know what's going on, as she was expecting a text from me hours ago.

2:00 pm
Still no word. The security agent comes to check on me. Says I can lay down in the lounge chair if I want. I tell him I'm worried if I sit there I will fall asleep.  He says that's ok, people sleep in here all the time.  I can lay down and take a little nap, get refreshed for the interview.

I drift in and out a little bit, enough to have a semi-conscious dream that a nice woman interviewed me and sent me on my way.  I wake to the phone ringing, Callie checking in on me again.  She's finally found a McDonald's to take the kids for lunch.  I wish I had more news for her, an approximate time of when I'll be done.

3:00 pm
An immigration officer finally arrives and takes me into a room for an interview, which he tells me will last about an hour.  He asks if I know why I'm here, and I tell him because I wanted to stay 6 months and apparently that's too long.  He responds that may be part of it.  He tells me that Mean Border Agent was not satisfied with my responses. I told him I was scared of Mean Border Agent and he made me uncomfortable.

This immigration officer is quite nice, asking me if I'm ok, checking to make sure I've been offered food.  He interviews me, and writes everything down.  I see him write the questions before he asks them, so I don't feel quite as scared about what he's going to say.  When I tell him about my depression and anxiety, he seems quite sympathetic.  He tells me his best friend has depression, so while he doesn't understand what I go through, he's had conversations at length with someone who does.  Says this must not be helping my anxiety.  (You can say that again, a million times over!)

He asks how long I've known Callie, asks what I plan to do while I'm here, how much money I've got, etc etc.  He asks off the record about my depression, and I tell him.  I tell him that when I'm depressed I usually stay in bed.  I say that at my worst, I ended up cutting.  I say that Callie deals with depression too, and when we're together we pick each other up.  We make sure we don't stay in bed all day, or for weeks at a time.  He thinks this is valuable information so he ends up writing it down.

4:00 pm
The officer tells me he needs to speak with Callie, and he needs to speak with his head officer.  He doesn't want to get my hopes up but he wants to let me in to the country.  He says I've been very honest and genuine with him.  Many people sit there and lie to his face, spit all kinds of bullcrap at him.  He told me that 80-90% of people he speaks to don't end up being let in.

4:20 pm
The immigration officer returns after speaking to Callie and his boss.  He says "Quick decision. After about 2 seconds of talking to my boss, she said 'sounds like you want to let her in, mate."  And that was that.

4:30 pm
I'm free!!!  They're releasing me!  The security officer takes me to get my bags and the immigration officer returns to give me my passport, which now has a stamp in it to show that I've been questioned at length by an immigration officer and he was satisfied with my answers and I have permission to stay for 6th months, so this won't happen again when I come back from my sister's wedding.

5:00 pm
I am FINALLY hugging Callie and kissing the kids, having the happy renunion I'd expected 6 hours earlier.  (No kisses for Callie though, not until we're out of the airport and alone in an elevator...just in case they're still watching us.)