immigration check & name conundrum

Two mildly disturbing things.

Dad calling the Brit by the name of my ex-boyfriend.

Thrice.

Three times last night. The first time was almost negligible. Second was mildly annoying. The third meant taking Dad aside.

Mortifying?

Or as someone pointed out, the real awkwardness is the conversation afterwards.
"Look you can call me anything you like, but you don't need to apologise every time, let's just move on and not discuss this. Ever."

The Brit took it well.

In other news, a few of us foreigners got notified the other day that immigration is doing a random check on whether all of us have the right papers.

Dude. Do I work in an airport?

Dude. Are there lots of illegal immigrants [also] working the corporate ladder?

I work with a handful of non-EU people, Americans mostly. The Quiet American being one, who is also Jewish:

The Quiet American: "Dude. We need to get outta here."

Peas: Dude. We have visas.....right?

Quiet American: Yeah but don't you see. This is just the start. We're going to need to leave that day.

Peas: I agree it's total balls, but we're OK dude. We have work permits.

Quiet American: No. I see what's happening here.

Peas: What's that then?

Quiet American: Starts off with a "paperwork check". Next thing you know...

Peas: ...it ends with an anal probe?

Quiet American:...I'm wearing a little star on my coat.

Peas: Woah.

Quiet American: That's how they roll in Europe.

[pause]

....So. Time to go. Packing up. Flight tomorrow.

Peas: Yeah you're totes right. Time to get the fuck out bro.

Quiet American: They'll probably make us do an English test too.

Peas: Yeah. In that case we're really fucked.

Quiet American: And what about the Australian? That guy doesn't even speak the language.

Peas: Yeah I don't understand half the shit he says either.

Quiet American: They want my gold fillings.

Peas: Where are we going to go?

Quiet American: Scunthorpe?