The Doctor, and The City of Brotherly Love

Yesterday wasn’t easy. I knew going out that it wouldn’t be easy, and I was right. Between waking up in South East London, and laying my head down to sleep in Indianapolis, we were travelling for a constant 16 and a half hours; this monumental trip included surly boarding pass checkers in Heathrow, a baby who enjoyed nothing more than beating the shit out of Nick, a free Shuttle service we chose to forego and a delayed flight between Philadelphia and Indianapolis that saw us waiting, due to technical issues with the electrics, followed by a changing of crew members that led to a total of 2 hours with us grounded before we finally got air bound. All of this pales in comparison however to the wonderfully twisted run in I had with one specific passport controller, and ten year psychiatric veteran, in Philadelphia: Dr Estrada.

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