the saga continues…….
Have you ever been through Immigration/Passport Control and Customs? If you have, then you already know it is rather like being a sheep. One is herded into zig-zaggy queues and lines, and then everyone stands there trying to not to look anything remotely like a Terrorist, or drug smuggler, but like a person you would entrust to raise your infant child. Our Forest F. Gumpmeister, found all of this quite intriguing! Although he still tried to boss me about and direct ME where to go etc. He eventually recognized he was the novice here, (going to Alaska does not count) and begrudgingly relinquished control to moi – thank you very much! The Passport Officers were short men in uniforms, they menacingly glared at us, rubber stamps in hand. I had already warned Gumpo not to be chatty, that these guys weren’t interested in friendship, they just wanted you to think that their penises were large. Finally we made it through Passport control without any issues, and slowly walked another five miles before gathering around the baggage carousel. There we stood, me and the Gumpster, and the 300+ passengers from our plane who looked ten years older than when they had departed Chicago! All of them looked as though they wished they had a toothbrush and a fresh pair of underwear. Of course I looked worse than everyone else due to my prescription drug hang-over, not to mention total lack of sleep. Any moment now we would get our suitcases! And the vacation would begin…….but fifteen minutes passed and nothing was happening. Suddenly everyone parted like the Red Sea, was it William & Kate? Nope, it was our flight crew. They appeared like Royalty, no resemblance to the robotic humanoids who had handed out limp sandwiches mere hours earlier….I did notice though, that most of the female flight attendants actually outweighed the men, and weren’t nearly so smart and dressy. The male attendants had a collective odor of multiple expensive colognes that were beginning to give me a buzz……and also for some strange reason they had such effeminate voices that I wanted to call them all Marjorie….the clock ticked, the carousel remained immobile. FFGump’s eyes kept shifting to the nearest restroom (yes, it was THAT special time) and then finally a (British) voice came over the intercom. (Read with London accent for maximum effect please)”Good mornin laydees and gennelmen. We are verrry sorry to announce that there will be a deelay in getting yer cayses orrf the playne. We can’t seem to get the cargo door open, it is stuck. But we will ave it sorted quickly. Fank you fer yer patience.” That was enough for the Gumpster….he almost became airborne in his haste to get to the loo!! And so Great Britain was duly introduced to the ugly end of Mr. Gump. Upon his return Forest looked several pounds lighter, and I was still baggage-less. Moments passed……… “Hello again laydees and gennelmen. We are still avin a bit of trubble getting the door unstuck, please be patient.” There was a collective groan from 300 voices. I knew that by now, on the other side of the Customs Department my mother would be having a fit. The public had no access to this part of the airport, therefore all the waiting families had no inkling of what was going on! I grimaced, my mum probably thought I had been arrested for bringing her too many bottles of Estee Lauder’s Youth Dew into the country, not to mention the Reese’s Peanut Butter cups and Kool Aid….. After the fourth YES THE FOURTH announcement about the blasted cargo door of the plane, some brainiac managed to pries it open (a female I am sure) and the baggage carousel began to move! HOORAY! I was so thrilled to be back in my homeland! I hadn’t even left the airport and I could already taste fish and chips in the air…okay not really, but just go with me here. It was wonderful to see my mum, although I did notice that she had retreated further back into her shell since I saw her last. But she remembered both of our names (even though Forest tried to pretend he was someone else), and on the way to the car she only repeated the same story three times. My mum is quite a character, she is 82, has Alzheimer’s, and has been ‘living in sin’ with her (younger) boyfriend for the past five years. Ray is also a ‘character’, and he couldn’t be less like my deceased father than any living person on Planet Earth. Consequently my relationship with him is a little bit strained (that’s another story in itself), although Ray seems to think that I like his ‘open to the navel’ shirts, gold chains and 1950s hairdo. He is very friendly towards me, but my home-coming does feel strange, especially with Forest tagging along. Speaking of Forest (who loves everybody- bless him), he gave mum a HUGE American hug and shook Ray’s hand. We were in England…finally! Seventy-five minutes later we arrived at Stonehenge, and surprisingly Ray managed to park the car without killing anyone who got in the way, and we narrowly escaped knocking over one of the monolithic boulders while still driving 95mph, as he had on the motorway….. However, I will say that due to the terrifying trip from the airport, neither Forest nor myself had fallen victim to the incessant urge to pass out due to jet-lag. Apparently I should have taken my Xanex post-flight, for the air-travel had certainly been less traumatic than Raymundo’s driving. We alighted from the vehicle, our faces still contorted with fear, and for the second time that day I almost kissed the ground. Stonehenge proved to be a very fast experience! The Gumpster grabbed his camera, I grabbed a sausage roll (yum), and then we pushed our way through a vast swell of Japanese tourists so that we could take some very bad photographs. We only had a few minutes…Ray had assured us “Go on, take yer time!” but he and mum sat waiting in the parking lot with the engine still running…so we hurried. Finally back in the car again with every seat-belt available fastened (where is duct tape when you need it most?), Forest exclaimed that he had never encountered so many nationalities in one place at one time in his entire life! Hah! Monsieur le Gump was finally recognizing how narrow his little mind was, that seeing Oklahoma, Texas and Louisiana did not make you a world traveler! Yes, Elvis HAD left the building and was headed to the palace! I know you will be counting the moments until you read part three………. JUDE