A Valentine Invite to Dish: Crazy Things We Do in Love
Have you ever been so twitter-pated that you did something silly? Or embarrassing? Or crazy? Or all of the above? Tell us, because even feminists fall in crazy love…
I’ll go first:
My visa to move to Australia and marry the man of my dreams had arrived. I was sure to start out my future on the right note, so… years before, a sorority sister shared a story about how she took a flight one summer to visit her boyfriend. To surprise him, she wore a super-short mini skirt and a really long black wig that was opposite to her more conservative look and short blonde hair. She walked off the plane, went over and “started totally kissing him.” I thought that was the coolest thing ever! So I wanted to do that, but only for true love, not just a boyfriend. So when my marriage visa was granted, I decided I would do something similar.
I packed my bags with wedding and permanent-move related odds and ends that I thought were too important to send in the mail. Included in my bags were my wedding dress (eek! So exciting!), a hand-carved stone shaped like a frog, favourite music CDs, and clothes. I also wanted a particular cake flavour for the wedding cake that I had not been able to find in Australia, so I packed some Duncan Hines cake mixes as well.
Then I put my plan into place. I ordered a Victoria’s Secret nightgown. It was black, spaghetti-strapped, and laced up at the sides. I convinced myself it was really a dress. The plan was to take the flight, then upon arrival, go to the ladies room, put my hair in a tight bun (because I was sure my hair would look yucky), drown myself in body spray (so I didn’t smell like a 14 hour flight), and do full make-up. I would then change into the Victoria’s Secret “dress” and put on black stiletto heels before collecting my luggage and going through customs. I planned to walk through the international arrivals door and go over and “totally kiss” my then-fiancé, making the most romantic start to a legally permanent relationship EVER.
I was honestly surprised when I was called over for “random” quarantine and customs inspection just after the fully-tarted-up and baggage collection portion of my romantic plan. Word to the wise: This look attracts attention at customs, if only because hauling heavy luggage, even with a luggage trolley, when wearing a nightgown (which has been deludedly declared a dress) is… unusual.
Now, because I didn’t want the cake mixes in to explode in my luggage, I had removed them from the boxes. I kept them in their bags, then placed them in zip-lock bags. I separately retained just a small cut-out from the original box that said the number of eggs, etc. and temperature/bake time part. But, when the customs official opened my bag, and saw the cake mixes… it suddenly hit me: This looks like kilo bags of cocaine (or what I imagine kilo bags of cocaine look like). All of the sudden, there are more customs officers surrounding me and my luggage, staring at the cake mixes. The senior customs officer asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
I blankly said, “no?” because I honestly didn’t know what else to say! He took the cake mixes to test them ….while the other customs officers began to pull out and examine everything from my packed bags.
I might need to mention that I am a diabetic, so I carry syringes with me pretty much all the time. And because I was moving there, I had a LOT of syringes that I had thriftily packed inside socks, pockets and other places so they weren’t rolling around inside the suitcase. I can’t even start to describe the looks on the customs officers’ faces when they opened my jewellery box to find it filled with syringes (my jewelry was in my carry on… in a clean sock, to protect it, of course). Suffice to say, the number of customs people increased…. and I swear—EVERYONE in that section of the airport, passengers, passport officers, customs officers at other stations– everyone was looking at ME.
They pulled out my wedding dress—and the female customs officers start cooing at how pretty it was (eek! So exciting!), while male customs officers pulled out bras, shoes, bikinis, winter sweaters and… my stone-carved frog which was wrapped inside a pair of clean socks. Need I mention that in an age of mad cow and bird flu, animal products can be very problematic at international borders? Indeed, attempting to import illegal animals and/or illegal animal products is sometimes as much of an issue as … well, you know…drug smuggling.
“What’s this?” asked the customs officer and she unwrapped a sock that obviously had something inside.
“Oh! That’s just a frog.”
“Oh, it’s not alive!”
(Startled and disgusted expression.)
“What I mean is that it is carved… it’s not a real frog.”
“Oh…” she said as the sock opened to reveal a carved frog. She moved on to scrutinize my other belongings while I produced proper information in relation to the stash of syringes.
Keep in mind that there are automatic exit doors, so every time they opened, a breeze from outside was forced in, making a gust of air which blew up my “dress”…. exposing a lot more than I intended (or had even considered).
The main customs guy—who I suspect thought he was going to be declared a hero and be on the news for such a huge drug bust (based on the size of the cake mix bags)—came back to a sight of all of my things strewed across the customs counter. He throws the cake mix bags down and without eye contact, scowls “get outta here.” He turns to the others and tells them that I am clear to enter the country.
So, three customs officers and I heap my belongings sort of – on top– of my open suitcases that were on top of the luggage trolley. I didn’t want to bother to re-pack, I just wanted to get out. I then manoeuvred the very heavy load —down— an incline to the passenger meeting area outside of customs. Remember, I am wearing stilettos, and the “dress” is blowing up every time the doors open, as often as every 30 seconds….
The passenger arrival area went quiet as a struggled in….It seemed like everyone there was staring at me! I decided to keep my head down and began frantically looking for my fiancé. Then from the crowd came some small applause, blank stares and giggles all aimed in my direction. It seemed like this barbaric arrival was noticed by everyone….except for my fiancé. He was OBLIVIOUS. He was engrossed in watching a funniest home videos show on the airport communal TV. (HOW LAME!)
Annoyed that he isn’t looking for ME, and frustrated at… everything (!) I started screeching his name as I struggled to keep my “dress” down from the breeze, and keeping my breasts from falling out as I pick up items that are dropping off of the trolley. He finally sees me, and after months of waiting for the visa to come through, he says…. in a panic… “I love you- get dressed!”
Suffice to say, that was not what I planned. But, I still have my carved frog, I had my chosen wedding cake flavour, and my now-husband still loves it when I wear “that”
dress nightgown… at home.
Your turn! What is a crazy thing you have done when blinded by love? DISH!