The best way to darken up something light when photocopying is to use a piece of red colored plastic. The best kind is the kind used as a document cover. Photocopiers interpret colors based on intensity. Blue is not an intense color, so photocopiers turn it to light grey, if they can detect it at all. (Which in newspaper graphics shops, they use blue colored pencil for marking corrections. It will not get picked up in final copy.) Red is an intense color and is interpreted by photocopiers as black.
When copying your the visa stamp, put the red plastic on the copy machine screen under the passport. That should darken it up nicely.
I agree with the other posters. Don't carry the chica's money with you. She should only get it in your hotel room, AFTER the session. So, why carry around that much money?
Explain that to him, and say that your bribe money AND your passport are at your hotel. He then has the choice of taking you back to your hotel to get his bribe money. But if your passport is there, too, then he cannot refuse to look at it. Also, once back at your hotel, you can sick the staff on him. They can help weed out the phoney cop, or threaten to call the precinct house.
Got a cell phone? Put the embassy number on speed dial. The best number to use in this situation is Marine Post #1. It is the front armored booth, it is manned 24 hours a day, and the sergeant or corporal of the guard is trained to handle emergency calls. He can call the Regional Security Officer 24 hours a day, and the RSO has the local police officials on HIS speed dial.
While on the phone, explain to the cop you are calling the Embassy. "Officer, you don't understand. I cannot spend the day in jail. I am here in San Jose to fix the Ambassador's wireless computer system. If it doesn work, he will be very angry. Can I give him you name and badge number?"
I once played this trick 20 years ago. In 1987, me and this other lieutenant got pulled out of the reserves and got sent down to Panama. I got sent out to the boonies of Honduras for six months. He got to be a rear echelon mo-fo in Panama City, so I was a little resentful. When I rotated back to PTY prior to going back stateside, we hung out. One night, he, his PTY girlfriend, and I were driving around the city after dinner.
We got pulled over by the traffic cops, who caught him doing some illegal turn. Or maybe not. They told him to follow their car. We were driving around and that is when I decided to mess with his head.
"Bobby! Bobby, man, just stop and let me out! Or just slow down and let me jump out!" I put as much panic in my voice as I could. He asked what was wrong. I blurted out, "Dude, didn't you get the brief on the right wing death squads? Its the phucking Panama Traffic Patrol! They are notorious!
They'll probably kill you and rape your girlfriend! No, worse! They'll rape you and kill your girlfriend! Just let me out! I'll try to get help!"
At this point, he started to panic, saying, no, I spoke Spanish, maybe I could talk our way out of it.
I kept it up for five minutes. When the cops stopped in some desserted foresty area, Bobby's hands were trembling. His girlfriend didn't understand a lot of English, but she didn't give me away if she did understand what I was saying.
The cops got out of their patrol car. We got out of Bobby's car. We started talking and I translated the Spanish for Bobby.
Cops: "With respect to the driver's infraction...it is very serious."
Bobby: "What did they say? Did we make them mad?"
Me: "They wish foreigners would respect them...and take them seriously."
Bobby turns pale.
Cops: "But we can handle this amongst ourselves."
Me: "Bobby, they say they know how to handle people who disrespect them."
Bobby shivers.
Cops: "For a small price, we can resolve his infraction."
Me: "They said, they will make you pay the price, a fraction at a time. Listen, when I say "go" you run to the left and I will run to the right. They can't shoot us both, right?"
Bobby starts to tremble, and begs me not to leave him, and at this point, I take pity on him.
I tell the cops, "Listen, do you know who he is. Look at him, look at his face. Do you read the newspapers?" At this point, I take his face in my hand and point it at the cops.
"This is Robert Alderidge. Robert....Alderidge," like they would recongnize the name. "It was in the newspaper, two days ago, remember? Okay, it was on page three, but...."
Bobby asks me what I am doing. I told him I wasn't going to run, but I was asking the cops not to shoot him in the face, so at least his parents could have an open casket. By this time he shivering like he has hypothermia.
I continue with the cops: "Mr. Adleridge is the guy the canal commission hired to modernize the computers that control the locks on the Panama Canal." By this point, the cops are starting to lock worried.
"He is diabetic. He has to take his insulin. We were heading to his hotel where he has his medicine. If he doesn't get it, he will go into shock, he'll have to go to the emergency room, and then the Canal Administration is going to wonder why he can't fix the computers that control the locks. No locks, no canal..the canal shuts down, it costs the country $2.3 million a day. The ambassador will be very angry. He promised your president the best technical help, and this guy is the best. General Noriega will be very angry. Do you want to explain that to your boss?"
Bobby asks what I am saying to the cops. I tell him that I am begging for his life.
I tell the cops: "See how pale he is? Look, he is shaking. This is the first stage of diabetic shock!"
Well, the cops decided that the smartest thing to do was to let us go. But I wasn't having that. While they were scared , I decided I wanted more. I convinced the cops Bobby needed to get to his hotel room....and fast. They offered to escort us, lights and siren and everything. But that wasn't good enough. I didn't have a Panama or an international driver's license, and Bobby was in no condition to drive. What if he crashed?
So one cop drove his car ahead of us, while the other drove Bobby's car - top speed - back to the hotel.
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