So it turns out I’m a wanted felon… Sort of.

“Mr Jones? Mr Christopher Jones? Sorry sir, can you follow me please?”

Coming from an armed customs agent, that shit is scary. Turns out there’s another ‘Chris Jones’ out there (shocker) with the same birthday as mine. And this Chris Jones has an outstanding federal arrest warrant.

Didn’t catch what the warrant was for, but I was asked to spill about my recent marriage, traffic tickets, who I work for and can I name names. On the whole, wasn’t such a bad experience, but as a first time visitor to a foreign country it’s going to make me think twice about vacation destinations.

About the only explanation I got was, “Ouch, sorry, that’s a very unfortunate name.” You’re not just whistling fucking Dixie pal.