At the gate
The gate at Schiphol Airport is about to be closed. Apparently hanging in the bar and arriving half an hour before departure is pushing it. Security goes through the regular questions with me: trip details (to Canada and then Vermont for a wedding), am I not taking anything with me that isn't mine etc. It's going okay-ish (he notes I smell of beer at a certain point), until: Security guy: so what's the address you'll be staying at? Me: I'd have to look that up on Google Plus. Guy: what? Me: Google Plus, it's Google's Facebook, so to say. Guy: oh.. kay.. Whom will you be staying at? Me: I just know his first name: Alex. Guy: you don't know his last name? Me: well, it's on Google Plus. Up until last week nobody even knew his first name. We're good friends, just on the internet. Security guy tells me to wait and goes over to security guy 2, his supervisor, to deliberate for a few minutes. The supervisor then comes over. He asks kind of the same que