FA+
Shop
Airport and Eggplants
15 years ago
I flew in last night from a weekend visit to Phoenix. Ket had to stay behind and work, but she didn't miss much since, well. It's Phoenix.
Unbeknown-st to Logic, there is a little place in Chandler, Arizona, which makes the best Egg Foo Young known to man. Ket asked that I bring some back and I could not refuse. So, en route to the airport we pick up the egg foo young and some fried rice to go. I felt clever as I funneled the sauce into new little travel shampoo bottles I bought for the purpose (though the guys at the Asian Grill might have thought otherwise.) I already have a curious assortment of things in my carry-on bag--such as the Singapore chocolate which apparently looks a lot like C4 in an airport x-ray, so I was sure the addition of my strange meaty "hair products" wouldn't warrant a second glance.
Anyhow, I arrive at the security table and sure enough, something in my bag looks strange. So after a quick pat-down, I'm pulled over to the side. The woman unzips the bag and screeches. The box of fried rice has opened and I don't really think she was expecting a messy box of rice inside.
"What's that!" she cried.
"Fried rice!" I say. "It just opened in the bag."
"You pick it up outta there, I don't want to touch it none."
"Sure thing!" and I pick up the rice.
She reaches inside and picked up the baggy of shampoo bottles, which I'd forgotten to take out for the separate scanning process.
"Now," she begins to lecture, "these got to go separate--" she drops them suddenly, "Oh god! These shampoo bottles are hot!"
"Sure," I say, gesturing, "that's the sauce for the Egg Foo Young. I couldn't think of a better way to get it through security."
"Egg Foo what?" she says, frustrated, and opens the main compartment of my bag.
There is a container of egg foo young, but she reaches beyond that and pulls a whole raw eggplant out of my bag.
"Why are you traveling with an eggplant? Do you have a whole damn grocery store in here?"
"They don't have eggplants where I come from," I joke, though it's kind of true. There wasn't any eggplants in the pantry at home.
"They don't..." she starts to repeat, baffled. "Where you come from?"
I say the first thing that pops into my head, which was, "...Montana."
"They don't have eggplant in Montana," she scowled, hand on a hip, other on my eggplant.
"Not since the eggplant epidemic of '84," I say.
She's unimpressed.
"Yeah," she says, waving me through, "you go on ahead. I'm done. You put your sauces through separate next time."
She mutters under her breath as I pack everything up, "Damn that egg fooey does smell good."
And it was good. I'd even say...scrumtrulescent.
Unbeknown-st to Logic, there is a little place in Chandler, Arizona, which makes the best Egg Foo Young known to man. Ket asked that I bring some back and I could not refuse. So, en route to the airport we pick up the egg foo young and some fried rice to go. I felt clever as I funneled the sauce into new little travel shampoo bottles I bought for the purpose (though the guys at the Asian Grill might have thought otherwise.) I already have a curious assortment of things in my carry-on bag--such as the Singapore chocolate which apparently looks a lot like C4 in an airport x-ray, so I was sure the addition of my strange meaty "hair products" wouldn't warrant a second glance.
Anyhow, I arrive at the security table and sure enough, something in my bag looks strange. So after a quick pat-down, I'm pulled over to the side. The woman unzips the bag and screeches. The box of fried rice has opened and I don't really think she was expecting a messy box of rice inside.
"What's that!" she cried.
"Fried rice!" I say. "It just opened in the bag."
"You pick it up outta there, I don't want to touch it none."
"Sure thing!" and I pick up the rice.
She reaches inside and picked up the baggy of shampoo bottles, which I'd forgotten to take out for the separate scanning process.
"Now," she begins to lecture, "these got to go separate--" she drops them suddenly, "Oh god! These shampoo bottles are hot!"
"Sure," I say, gesturing, "that's the sauce for the Egg Foo Young. I couldn't think of a better way to get it through security."
"Egg Foo what?" she says, frustrated, and opens the main compartment of my bag.
There is a container of egg foo young, but she reaches beyond that and pulls a whole raw eggplant out of my bag.
"Why are you traveling with an eggplant? Do you have a whole damn grocery store in here?"
"They don't have eggplants where I come from," I joke, though it's kind of true. There wasn't any eggplants in the pantry at home.
"They don't..." she starts to repeat, baffled. "Where you come from?"
I say the first thing that pops into my head, which was, "...Montana."
"They don't have eggplant in Montana," she scowled, hand on a hip, other on my eggplant.
"Not since the eggplant epidemic of '84," I say.
She's unimpressed.
"Yeah," she says, waving me through, "you go on ahead. I'm done. You put your sauces through separate next time."
She mutters under her breath as I pack everything up, "Damn that egg fooey does smell good."
And it was good. I'd even say...scrumtrulescent.
XD Awesome.
Sounds like a fun time.
And it's always more interesting when airport security has... personality.
"Because I already went on a trip with the zucchini last weekend. Duh!"
Meaty hair products. Gods, I love you.
I'm going to have to ask my history professor about this eggplant situation xD
They were delicious
Heh.. quite the story though. I hope the hassle was worth it :)
As a secondary note. It would have been so awesome if you would have taken a handful of that rice and started eating it as part of the cleanup process ;)
Beerfest, soon!
AND YES.... BEEEEEEEEEEERFEST