Do passports dream of traveling ?

I was awakened this morning in an unusual way… 

I felt a little scrachy-tapping on my cheek.

I was a bit shocked at first, because I stay alone at the moment.

I jolted awake and was shocked to see a little blue book sitting on the edge of nightstand, looking at me curiously.

“Xin Chao!” it said. ”Good Morning!” Then it proceeded to say good morning or hello in 18 different languages. Sawadee Khrup! Buongiorno! Guten morgen, доброе утро, Buenos dias, Ni Hao!”

I was sitting up in bed, trying to figure out if I was dreaming or if I had another bad bottle of Macallan’s last night and was hallucinating.

I rubbed my eyes then got up, got out of bed and walked to the sink. 

I looked over my shoulder to notice the book was watching me as I turned on the water, washed my face and rubbed my eyes, then slapped my cheeks to make sure I was indeed, awake.

Yes. I was awake.

Yes, it was my passport that woke me up.

So, I asked my passport if it wanted a cup of coffee. (it only seemed polite) It declined, saying that coffee made it difficult for its visas to stay stuck.

I nodded as if I understood. (I did not understand). 

Since I have no such visa-stickiness issues, I walked into the kitchen to make a quick cup and sort this out once I was properly caffeinated. My passport was not going to wait, however, and followed in to the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, then on to the top of the fridge so it was at the same level as me… we were eye-to-stamp when he started in-

“I want to know why you kept me locked in your briefcase for 12 weeks now?!” 

“I need to get out! I need to travel!” He said... and then, “I wasn’t built to just sit in a leather pouch for weeks at end. I have got to move!”

Then he jumped off the fridge and started pacing back and forth on the counter as he lectured me, carefully avoiding some spilled coffee grounds as he went. 

“It’s never been more than a few weeks before, and ALWAYS we get to see one of those nice immigration people at least once a month… usually 4 or 5 times.” He explained.

“And to make matters worse,” He continued “Barnett’s passport keeps texting me asking when he can visit.”

His frustration was visible “I’m running out of excuses,” He said. ”I’ve put on weight and I’m bored out of my stamps…” He lamented. “What’s going ON!!!???”

“Well,” I said, “For starters, let me apologize. I had no idea that you felt this way… or, in fact, felt anything at all.”

Suddenly indignant, he turned his back cover to me and went silent.

So, I explained... About Covid-19, about governments panicking, about people being afraid to travel, about masks, and hand (page) sanitizer and then about whole countries and regions locking down and not allowing anyone to travel.

He couldn’t believe it.

“NOBODY is traveling?” 

“Nope.”

“Singapore? C’mon, Singapore must be…”

“Nope”- I cut him off. “Every country in Asia… and almost every country in the world has been on lockdown since Mid-March. They cancelled all sports, concerts, events, conventions and even awards shows.”

He just kinda sat there for a minute in stunned silence shaking his 2’x 3’ photo slowly from side to side. The gravity of the situation finally hitting him. (Rather than completely destroy his faith in humanity, I left out the part about toilet paper.)

“So, I’m sorry.” I said. “But that’s the world we’re living in… and for the immediate future, I wouldn’t plan on as much travel as we got to do in the past.” I continued, “If I had known, I would have taken you out more often… but my primary concern has always been your safety”

This seemed to catch him off guard. “My safety?” he said. “I’m a little blue book, what can possibly happen to me?” 

“There are many things that could happen,” I said. “None of them good… You could get lost, or stolen.”

So, I explained about passport theft. About how bad guys would use him to pretend to be me and then do bad things and I would be blamed for it, or worse, just use him once and throw him away. 

That did the trick.

“Use me once and throw me away??” He said, horrified. "But what if I’m not expired? What if I still have blank pages??”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said.  “These are bad guys.”

He sat there for a minute, then he looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes, so soulful and full of life, yet mesmerizing and mysterious, and I could see that he understood. 

At that very minute, my cellphone pinged.

It was Barnett, telling me that Thailand had announced they would open up to international travelers on July 1st. I was elated! Only 5 more weeks!

My passport was disappointed however, and just shrugged his binding and started shuffling toward my briefcase to wait for another 5 weeks. 

“Wait just a minute, little guy.” I said. “Just because we can’t travel internationally doesn’t mean I can’t take you around Vietnam for a spin, right?” 

“We can go to Danang, and Hai Phong and Phu Quoc and Quy Nhon, and you can let those gate attendants and check-in agents give you a proper thumbing-through… I know it’s not the same as the Immigration guys, but we’ve all got to make sacrifices.”

He stopped and turned (there were those eyes again) and smiled.

“So, what do you say? I asked. “Domestic flights ??”

He perked right up, waddled over to my briefcase and said:

“Ready to go when you are, boss!”

Then he hopped into the leather pouch where he’s been hibernating, and sent Barnett’s passport a meme about coffee and immigration officer’s thumbs and a text that he would see him in 5 weeks.

So, do your passport, your neighbors and the economy a favor… travel domestically.