Member-only story
My Experience Working as an Undocumented Alien
A long-ago experience, and NOT a how-to!
First, let me clarify: This is not a how-to guide!
Second of all, it was many, many moons ago, so please don’t consider reporting me to immigration.
Unplanned “Stopover”
During my last year of college as a Canadian studying in Mexico, I had to make a trip to the U.S. border between semesters to renew my visa. I decided to visit friends in Houston, two brothers whom I had met in Mexico. At the time they were not studying and were taxi drivers and potheads. Oh yes, one of them eventually became a lawyer.
In the days after I arrived in Houston via a Greyhound bus, my friends showed me around the city and even bought us tickets to watch a baseball game at the Astros stadium, which was new and huge and (they insisted) totally impressive. I knew close to nothing about baseball and had no idea what was special about the stadium, but understood I was supposed to act grateful and seem to be happy about it all. In fact, I was slightly frightened when we headed way up in the bleachers, then somewhat disappointed when the players down below looked so tiny.
Sometime during those few days I had planned to visit, it dawned on me that I couldn’t find my passport! That meant reporting the loss to…
