US embassy shenanigans

Me and C went down to sunny Grosvenor Square in London, today - where, at the behest of some fair Americans, we queued for five hours (300 minutes), no exaggeration. We didn’t mind. There were plenty of others doing the same. And we had good company. And crosswords (not cross words) and books to keep us company. In true British spirit, we packed a lunch and spoke to our neighbours to keep our peckers up.

The interview for the visas itself - which seemed strangely unnecessary, considering how everyone had filed their applications in minute detail already - was over in under two minutes. A couple of questions were fired at me and at C, an eyebrow was raised momentarily at C’s tale of woe - and memories and emotions, kept in check for almost six years now, came flooding back over both of us as we wandered out into the sunshine, C finally allowed to visit America once more.

We celebrated with a cocktail (mine, blue: C’s red) and a noodle supper.

Now we are tired, and in a strangely emotional mood.