Marissa can't help but grin slightly to te man. "Passport.. passport.. right." Digging around in her handbag, she procures her rather remarkably used-looking passport and hands it over to the man. Canadian in origin, but just about full of stamps from many countries, even some not so innocent ones from the past.<br/><br/>"Say, what's your name, by the way? I'm Marissa." She murmurs in a friendly manner. It says so in the passport, of course.