The Terrorist and the Beagle

When I got married almost fourteen years ago, I married my wife three times in two weeks (long story).  She being Greek, one of our weddings was in Athens, so that all of her friends and family could attend.  My wife flew over early to help her mother finalize the details, and I followed later with my mother.

The wedding itself was a whirlwind.  We flew in on a Friday, I got married on a Sunday, and we flew out on a Monday.  I had just started a new job, so that was all the time off I could manage.  My wife insisted that I take an extra suitcase full of our wedding haul back with me.  I didn’t feel comfortable carrying all of those valuables back, and I surely didn’t feel comfortable declaring them all.  When my mother and I arrived back in Houston, our baggage took a long time to come out on the conveyor belt.  We were standing off to the side waiting, when I dropped my backpack and told my mother to wait there, so I could go get the suitcases and drag them over.

I was in the process of wrestling the first big black monster off the conveyor belt, when I heard a ruckus going on behind me.  I turned to the side and my mother was standing next to me, waiting to the take the first suitcase, so I could grab the next.  I handed it to her and reached for the next.  The commotion started getting louder and louder as an entire security team cordoned off an area and were telling passengers to please move back.  Not thinking anything of it, I grabbed the other three suitcases and prepared to go through customs. 

I suddenly stopped and asked my mother where my backpack was.  She said that she hadn’t seen it.  Groaning, I headed back to where we had been standing and realized that the security team was circling the area around where my backpack was.  I pushed my way through the crowd to speak to one of the officers.  He told me to stand back because they had a potential threat situation.  I looked over and saw a beagle standing on top of my backpack barking and clawing at the front. 

I indicated to the officer that that was my backpack and suddenly I had his full attention!  I didn’t want his dark eyes staring at me with menace and scrutiny, so I quickly explained that I had left it to go grab my suitcases.  He told me in a not-very-nice-voice that it was against the rules to leave a bag unattended for any reason.  I assured him that I had left it with my mother, but she had forgotten it when she came to help me.  He still didn’t want me to go near the bag, since the dog was obviously not happy with something inside it.  So, he started to interrogate me in the middle of the airport.  I assured him that there was nothing in the bag but a change of clothes and some candy, but he seemed skeptical.  I offered to show him, and he reluctantly agreed, cautioning me to move slowly.  I unzipped the bag and pulled out a large package of strawberry Twizzlers.  The moment that beagle got a whiff of the candy, he went nuts.  I looked at the officer and said, “Maybe he’s just hungry.”  He grunted, motioned, and all of the security guards dispersed in different directions.

That fiasco over, we grabbed our bags and headed to customs.  My mother went first, got a nice smile and some friendly banter from the TSA agent, and headed on through the checkpoint.  I was not so lucky.  The smile instantly disappeared when he looked at my passport.  He looked me up and down like I was some kind of terrorist.  I admit that I looked pretty worse for wear, being up for 38 straight hours will do that to you, and I had some beard stubble darkening my cheeks.  But I don’t think it was THAT bad.  And that’s when I was interrogated for the second time in the middle of the airport.  It went something like this:

TSA Agent:  Where are you coming from?

Me:  Greece.

TSA Agent:  How long were you there?

Me:  Four days.

TSA Agent:  Why were you there?

Me:  I was getting married.

TSA Agent:  That’s a pretty short timeframe to get married.

Me:  That was all the time I could get off work.

TSA Agent:  Where’s your wife?

Me:  She stayed behind to wrap things up.

TSA Agent:  And she let you come ahead by yourself?

Me:  It surprised me too.

TSA Agent:  So, why do you have two suitcases for such a short trip?

Me:  Have you ever been to a wedding in Greece?

TSA Agent:  No.  Why?

Me:  Because I had three different outfits just for the wedding, not to mention running around clothes, sitting around clothes, and flying clothes.

TSA Agent:  I see.  Did you get any money for your wedding?

Me:  Yes, sir.

TSA Agent:  Well, you didn’t declare any cash.

Me:  That’s correct, sir.

TSA Agent:  Why not?

Me:  Because I don’t have any cash.

TSA Agent:  But you just said that you got cash for your wedding.

Me:  That’s correct, sir.

TSA Agent:  So, how did you get cash, but don’t have it now to declare?

Me:  Because my wife wouldn’t let me handle it.

TSA Agent:  I see.  Well, welcome back to the United States and congratulations.