Stupid Gifts
I packed all the gifts we were bringing back into our carryon bag, so that nothing would get lost. We checked our many bags which have mysteriously multiplied over the last month. No problem leaving Christchurch for Auckland. In Auckland, a little red flag goes up when the carryon bag is x-rayed. They look at us, then run it through again.
"Is this your bag?"
"Yes", Hans replies.
"Would you follow me please?"
We follow to the end of the counter where he explains he needs to look inside. I packed it, so I know that in addition to the various little gifts there are 2 bottles of Minus 42 Vodka (a trendy new vodka made in NZ), 1 good bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and a fancy guacamole flavoured oil.
I shrug and watch him unpack. Out come the bottles, a couple of Maori CDs, the cheeseboard I bought. He flips over the cheeseboard to reveal the cheese knife with its sharp edge, pretty double points on the end and the inlay of paua. I gasp and cover my eyes.
I didn't mean it, I want to cry. I paid extra for that knife. Please don't take it.
He was sympathetic but nevertheless poked his finger through the clear plastic wrap and pulled it out. I wanted to blame the Christchurch airport for not noticing it. There I could have slipped it into the checked luggage.
I asked if I could mail it to myself but he said no, it was too late. I'm wracked with grief for my stupidity. Even my lethal cuticle cutters are in the friggin' checked luggage. How could I not have seen the knife??
It was a gift for Lloyd and Gina and I told her to keep the plastic wrap over the board and show people the hole through which the offending knife was removed.
Later in the flight, I snuck the plastic serrated knife from my dinner into my purse with the intent of substituting it, as a joke. But we went through three more security checks lasting 1 3/4 hours and I lost my nerve early on and discreetly disposed of the plastic knife. I really didn't think the Americans would see the joke.
"Is this your bag?"
"Yes", Hans replies.
"Would you follow me please?"
We follow to the end of the counter where he explains he needs to look inside. I packed it, so I know that in addition to the various little gifts there are 2 bottles of Minus 42 Vodka (a trendy new vodka made in NZ), 1 good bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and a fancy guacamole flavoured oil.
I shrug and watch him unpack. Out come the bottles, a couple of Maori CDs, the cheeseboard I bought. He flips over the cheeseboard to reveal the cheese knife with its sharp edge, pretty double points on the end and the inlay of paua. I gasp and cover my eyes.
I didn't mean it, I want to cry. I paid extra for that knife. Please don't take it.
He was sympathetic but nevertheless poked his finger through the clear plastic wrap and pulled it out. I wanted to blame the Christchurch airport for not noticing it. There I could have slipped it into the checked luggage.
I asked if I could mail it to myself but he said no, it was too late. I'm wracked with grief for my stupidity. Even my lethal cuticle cutters are in the friggin' checked luggage. How could I not have seen the knife??
It was a gift for Lloyd and Gina and I told her to keep the plastic wrap over the board and show people the hole through which the offending knife was removed.
Later in the flight, I snuck the plastic serrated knife from my dinner into my purse with the intent of substituting it, as a joke. But we went through three more security checks lasting 1 3/4 hours and I lost my nerve early on and discreetly disposed of the plastic knife. I really didn't think the Americans would see the joke.
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