Singapore was the biggest trip of all. The only real thing I knew about Singapore was that in the nineties, an American did some graffiti there and the punishment was that he was caned, as in whacked by a fucking cane, which is intense. I should also say I learned this fact from a Weird Al song.
The arrival was terrifying. We stepped off the plane, and they took our passports and slipped a little piece of paper inside each one that basically said that if you have drugs on you, they’ll execute you, which is a real threat for someone like me. I do, in fact, often have drugs on me, and even though I was pretty sure I didn’t at this moment, I’ve on more than one occasion accidentally brought contraband from one place to another, so this was some high-stakes packing I had just done. Never did the question “Did I accidentally leave a roach in one of my pockets?” have literal life-or-death stakes before, but I’m currently alive so spoiler alert.
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