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Sunday, June 3, 2002 U.S. History Quiz in Tijuana   Lisa and I, after a long wait in line, finally make it through Tijuana and right up to the Customs Desk. Being the gentleman, I let Lisa go first. She answers a question or two and is allowed to pass. I step up and my passing didn't appear to be so easy - if at all. As a matter of fact, while in line I became increasingly paranoid that I might inadvertently do something generally associated with people trying to sneak across into the United States. "What's your name?" "Benjamin Smash." "How do you declare your citizenship?" "United States." "Oh really? Where were you born?" "San Francisco." A studious, piercing stare from the Customs Agent. "Um, San Francisco Kaiser on Geary Street?" "Uh huh…," she glanced over papers and my license, "where did you go to high school?" "Abraham Lincoln. Class of '92'." "Who plays second base for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays?" Shocked, "What? I don't know that." "Take him back, Charlie," she says over her shoulder. "No, no, wait! I'm and American!" "Sure you are." Charlie moves closer. "Really! I was born in San Francisco, California on March 6th, 1975!" "Ok, buddy. I'll ask you just a couple more questions." "Ok." "Who was President Calvin Coolidge's Vice President?" "WHAT!?" "Didn't know that, did you Jose?" "My name's no Jose. It's Benjamin!" "Which president was involved with the Teapot Dome Scandal in the 20's?" "Warren G. Harding." I shocked even myself. Charlie backed off, but the Customs Agent raised a hand to keep him at the ready. She wasn't done with me yet. "Benjamin, quit screwing around. I'll meet you back at the hotel," Lisa said, and she leaves. "Your girlfriend," the Customs Agent did that 'quotes' thing with her fingers, "just took off with your money. How's that make you feel, Paco?" "My name's Benjamin. What money?" "You border crossing fee." "I didn't pay a fee! That's my fiancé. I live here!" "Here, in Mexico?" "No! In the United States of America!" "Who's face is on the five dollar bill?" "Abraham Lincoln." "Which president was he?" "Sixteenth." "What state was he from?" "Illinois." "Who's the mayor of the state capital of Illinois?" "What?" And on and on it went, just like this. I'd screw up and Charlie would step closer. I'd get a bunch right, and he's move away. Yet no matter what I said, it was never good enough for the Customs Agent and I remained in that limbo until I woke up.