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.
