I really don’t like my passport: it is too big and has a colour that reminds you of something that has been sitting for too long in your fridge. But what I hate most about it is that when an immigration officer takes a look at it they will usually ask me to step aside and follow them into a small room.
Everybody in the airport immigration queue at JFK in New York already hates me because it is taking too long, and now that I am being led away like this it makes everyone look at me as if I have just threatened to assassinate their favourite cartoon character.
This is the moment where, in a perfect world modelled on Bollywood movies, I would break into song and dance; my chorus boys would be the beautiful boys in turbans and beards brandishing their "axis of evil" passports and I would look as fabulous as Kylie Minogue while singing: "What do I have to do to get the message thru? I am Iraqi, Iraqi!" It would be a hit with everyone at the airport and I would be escorted by adoring fans to the limousine waiting outside
Source [The Guardian]
