I live high in the mountains. Like ski-resort high. I must mention that my neighborhood is one of the few in the entire county that receives mail delivery. We get a lot of snow. I don't know if the snow plow guy has it out for me or not, but he is always crashing into my mailbox. It has caused more problems than I care to blog about. So last summer I got all Martha and decided to put the whole thing, post and all, in a cut off whiskey barrel so I could plant flowers around it (and also to give it an anchor to hold it down when when the uncareful plow guy plows into it).
So I was at the Goodwill last fall and I found a perfectly good steel mailbox. I thought I would buy it and store it in the garage until the inevitable inevitably happened. On a later trip to the thrift, I found some number decals in white and bought those as well. As predicted, mid-winter, plow guy annihilates the old box. It was an ugly mess. I sent Chase out with my back-up thrift mailbox and white letters to fix the whole thing.
Here is how it looks today. It is still way too early to plant flowers as it is snowing every other day so don't be hating.
Chase left the Goodwill price tag on there. He claimed it was too cold to scrape off.
Flash forward to last weekend. Remember I mentioned that Chase went to El Lay? Well, I am not saying he is a knuckle-head, but he once went to Hawaii with $5 and no wallet. They actually let him on a plane to Hawaii (which goes all the way across a big-ass ocean) with his student I.D. Don't ask. So anyway, upon arriving at LAX to return to Colorado last weekend, Chase realizes he lost his wallet.
.
No biggie right?
Well, it sorta is.
He has brown skin (extra tan from being poolside) and no identification. Terrorists are trying to blow up NYC and Arizona is trying to round up all of the illegals. Uh, Chase you need some ID babe.
This is a picture of Chase just a few hours before the incident (which I stole off Facebook):
I added the caption, but I am guessing it is not far off from the thoughts swirling around in his head.
So now Chase is sitting down for a chat with TSA.
TSA: Where do you live?
(apparently they have all this on a super computer complete with pictures)
Chase was able to answer that without a problem.
TSA: What does you mailbox look like?
Chase: Well, I am not sure what picture you have there, but it was gray plastic with black letters, but now it is metal with white letters. Oh, and it may or may not be in a pot of petunias or it could be scattered to a million pieces in the snow. I am not really sure. Depends on when the picture was taken.
????????????????????????
Now they are really suspicious.
TSA: Who are your neighbors?
Chase: ???? (really, Chase? not one?)
Chase: oh wait, Ryan and Nissa live down the street. (yeah Chase!)
Then there was a series of questions that Chase claims he got right.
Then there was this request. It sounds innocent enough, but I am sure will come back to bite me in the ass one day.
TSA: Give me all the phone numbers associated with that address.
Chase gives up all that information, including my law office and cell number.
Once again, they let him on the plane unidentified.
And now I am certain that I am on the TSA naughty list. I am sure I will be arrested or deported or waterboarded if I dare fly. I am never as lucky as that kid.
Thanks Chase! And just in time for Mother's Day.
