You can't go home again

...or at least you can not bring any liquids, gels or relaxation back with you.

We got up Friday morning much too early. Luckily, since I had the only suitcase with an echo -- all of my stuff fit fine. The two glass bottles of tequila were safely wrapped in clothing in the middle of my suitcase. My products of evil (toothpaste, shampoo, sunscreen) were safely left for the hotel staff. We were ready to go.

My manager fared just as well as I did using an interesting approach to package his wine. He pulls the bottles into a (slightly used) sock. Apparently this adds to the bouquet.

Being the designated paranoid travel, the DPT, I was a bit stressed that we did not leave at 10 as I had planned. So, rounding up folks at 10:02 -- we finally left around 10:45. It took a while to get to the border crossing, and since we were locked in line we had to turn off the air conditioning just to guarantee that we could make it. My manager, with his wily ways, had positioned the car so that the sun was beating down on me. However, I don't blame him for the lack of wind. As you would expect, this was the only hot day with no rain.

We made it to the border and the guard was unimpressed with his Frenchness and asked a lot of questions. He asked me a couple of things to verify my KY accent of which I did my best to oblige (Hoo-Wee). He asked if we had cigarettes, drugs or alcohol -- and since we had 6 bottles in the car we were sent to a building with a flashing light. Nervous that they were going to search our entire bags, we drove over (mainly just nervous about flight times, not that someone would be caught with some lotion or other dangerous contraband). However, they just wanted to have us pay a tax.

The guard asked to see the bottles. I asked if he was serious. He said yes, that he was. I asked him what the maximum tax was -- I would just pay that. He said no. I looked pleadingly. He got out a rubber glove and a smile. I dug into my suitcase and produced both bottles. Total charge per bottle $1.25. No cavity search, priceless.

We made it to the airport about an hour prior to the flight just as the gas tank read "Low". Perfect timing as only 1/2 of my face had already melted away.

There was no one in line for security and the detailed check was "Do you have any liquids?" I said "No". They said "Are you sure?" I said "Yes." That will fool them. You can just see it... "Dang, you asked me twice -- I must tell the truth!"

Flights were uneventful. I did nervously watch someone mix a drink, but it turned out to not be explosive.