100%, SIR, 100%

Having already established that Thai Immigration would OK our entry , if Thai Customs would also OK it, we confidently entered the interview office. And then we got the lecture. We stood, while the officer sat. The stamp was not right, the paperwork was not right, we were very lucky, he was being lenient,  next time do this, next time do that, and more. We patiently stood and nodded humbly at appropriate times. We were sent to another office to get passports photocopied. And then in the small interview room, these were stapled together with other papers. The departures forms were stapled. The stapler was working overtime. No hurry, we have 14 days to get to Phuket. At last it seemed like the paper stapling activity was nearing the end.
"OK, can we go now?", we asked. "No, " he replied "One more question. How well did you understand my English?"
We loudly chorused together, " 100%, Sir, 100%."
He was really chuffed, and with a broad smile he said "Now you can go. "
We calmly walked out of the hot, cramped cubicle, slowly walked to customs, picked up the export papers, sedately climbed aboard the bike and rode into no-man's land, and then burst out laughing with relief. We were out of Thailand, almost in Laos.
The tarmac ended.  The road along no-mans land was a chaotic 1km dusty ride.  In Thailand traffic drives on the left side of the road, in Laos on the right. The first 500 metres from each end are the same as the country you departed. It is in the middle that it gets interesting as the drivers start to move over to the country they are entering, so that when you arrive at the gates you are on the correct side.
A big building with lots of table height cut out perspex windows awaited us, we parked with all the other bikes in front of a no-parking sign. There was a bus load of silver haired Germans and young French professional types, hovering in front of window 3. For the locals, it is easy, they just squat to get to chin height so they can peer in and communicate with the voice through the window. Us foreigners, being at least a foot taller have to perform a weird 3- bend zig zag shape. We were directed to window 5, handed in our passports and blow me down with a feather, got another long lecture about the condition of our passports. Why were some stamps blurred? Sorry, sir, I put them in the washing machine by mistake , (a hectic trip from Malaysia on Chinese new year, 4 years ago,  overwrought and overtired to remember everything). "These staples are no good, they will break my rubber  stamp." He proceeded to remove all the staples with a serious hook thing. He then told us to tell  the Thai authorities next time to stamp the passport consecutively in the book,  and not waste pages. Would we dare, I don't think so.
B and I took it in turns to do the eye contact bendy dance while we nodded in agreement at the poor condition of our passports. Then we were handed 3 papers each to fill in. Reading the heading which clearly stated 'legible capital letters', I wrote in my best block lettering. NO way we're we going to get another reprimand.  Two a day is more than I can cope with. It took ages to fill in 6 pieces of paper. Johnny from Sweden plonked himself down alongside, borrowed my pen, scribbled something totally unreadable, was off,  out,  over the border, had his Beer and was back again with his new 30 day visa almost before we had finished our form filling.  He does this every 30 days, until they send him back to Sweden.
We paid, we got through customs, we got insurance, got a simcard.
We were through and on our way to Pakse, for a beer and lunch.