My Chacos

My Chacos are a source of joy and comfort in my life. Unlike inferior brands of sandals, such as Tevas, Chacos don't stink. I wear them everywhere. When relaxing, such as at the country house in Pala U, or on holiday in Austrlia, they are my only footwear.

My first impression of Australia was, naturally, the INTERROGATION. I approached the customs officer and he said, "G'day, matey."

"G'day," I replied. That was my mistake. An American should never say "G'day."

"Are you here visiting family?" he asked.

"No."

A little small talk and then he asked, "So, you're here visiting relatives?"

"No." I knew something was up.

They hauled me off to the side. A new officer quizzed me.

"Have you been to Australia before?"

"No."

A little small talk and then she asked, "So, is this you're first time in Australia?"

"Yes." She was more senior and more clever than the first guy. She made me answer the same question first No then Yes.

"Doesn't your family resent you leaving for Christmas?" she continued.

"We're not Christians." I retorted. I was getting peeved.

They dragged M-rock into it. We pleaded: "we're here for the cricket!"

"How much do cricket tickets cost?" she pushed.

Finally, they let us through. then it was on to Customs. The bloke there was friendlier, but he, too, smelled blood. "So you've been in rural Thailand?" he asked.

"Yes, at my country house."

"Let me see the shoes."

I showed him the Chacos on my feet.

"Take them off. Give them to me."

I took them and handed them over. I was flabbergasted. Would I be walking through Australia barefoot?

"Sit over there" he told me as he pointed to some lonely benches. "I will just scrub them up fer ya."

Five minutes later he returned and passed me my Chacos, dripping wet.

"There ya go, good as new," he told me.

After all that, it was now 10:00 PM and we were hungry. So we went on a walkabout, through downtown Melbourne, looking for the famous cafes. An hour walking but all closed on Christmas Eve. We ended up eating at Subway. Depressing. After finishing our sandwiches, we went on a walkabout looking for Melbourne's famous pubs. An hour walking but all closed on Christmas Eve. Finally we found one on Flinders Street. The bouncer greeted us warmly. But then he stopped me, pointed to my Chacos and said, "Sorry, mate, but I can't let you in with those open-toed sandals."

But they're so CLEAN!