The Series Of My Life - Season 1 - Episode 117

4 years ago

The Series Of My Life - Season 1 - Episode 117

I decided to pay for one day at a time in Setubal. I didn’t want to waste more money on imprudence.

We settled down and slept. My baby was tired after the bumpy Journey from north.
In the Morning I called Francis and told him that I was sending a friend to Lisbon to meet with him. I told him the friend would come and check out a sample of the permit. I asked him to get a photocopy of it if he could not get the real one. He agreed to meet with my friend in Colombo business district by 12pm.
I found an Angolan Taxi driver and chattered him for 50 Euros an hour. I figured everything would be done in an hour anyway. He took me to the Colombo around 12pm and we had to wait 30 minutes for Francis.

*Africans and timing*
I called and told him where to meet my friend. I was at the back of the Taxi when he came. The driver asked him to get inside and we drove away.

About 2km out of Colombo, I raised my head from the back seat and touched Francis on the shoulder. He nearly jumped out of the car. The driver laughed hard.

We got to a bar and went inside. I settled the cab driver and he disappeared.
I requested for two shots of brandy with ice. Francis settled for Sagres beer.
He brought out the original copy of the permit. He had gotten the copy from the immigration guy. It was a plain one, nothing was written on it, just the original Portuguese immigration seal.

I checked it and it was the original, the problem was getting my data into the immigration database.

This immigration criminal we were going to deal with had only his word for us. There was no way we were going to be sure that he entered the data info.

I was torn between agreeing or disagreeing but the urgent need to leave Portugal was stronger than ever. Finally I agreed to meet with the immigration man.
The deal was €2000 upfront and the balance when he finished adding my data on the permit card.

We finished drinking. Francis asked for my room rent for the month of January, I told him that I wasn’t paying a dime for the place again. I asked him to posses everything in the room.

I told him to wait for my call in the evening. I gave him €150 for his transport and his troubles. I took his phone and opened the back, removed the battery and the sim card. I smiled as I handed the dismembered phone back to him and disappeared from the bar.