The folks out at DFW airport have no sense of humor.

About a year ago, my husband Phil and I were given the dubious honor of getting a Taiwanese contortionist back to Taiwan. It was no big deal, really; just drive her down to the airport and wave good-bye from gate whatever.

But Phil and I can't do anything the easy way. We had been given a golden opportunity here. We had a contortionist and, by god, we were going to use that little woman for something. We just didn't know what.

I don't know who came up with the idea first--me, Phil, or four and a half feet of Asian attitude--but once the plan was hatched we had to do it.

For this practical joke you need:

1. a contortionist

2. a duffel bag

3. the x-ray machine at the airport.

We walked in and got the tickets squared away and picked up everything you pick up before you go through the metal detector. I had the carry on luggage and Phil was carrying 85 pounds of duffel bag.

We put her on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detectors. Once on the other side, security was very interested in the contents of the bag.

"Uhm, ma'am, excuse me. Would you mind opening this?"

I set the bag on the floor and clapped my hands. "Bag! Open!" and out snaked this tiny hand and she undid the zipper and unfolded herself from the bag.

I don't have to tell you how angry security was. They excused her and put her on her plane, but we got a bitching of a lifetime.



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