What good things come out of the visa office? The smell of immigrant lust lingers above the warm plastic chairs; the sweaty shuffle between tiny meaningless bureaucratic indignities. The perfect place to find a date! Of course not, but I was eighteen and virulently Christian and marvellously naïve. Jojo was not a particularly attractive man, dressed in a large red basketball t-shirt and baggy jeans. “Old, thick-lips,” Iago said of Othello. His name was Jojo. He had bling, and sunglasses …