new york shenaniganos

After a morning of frantic last-minutes parking my car, buying bourbon for gifts, and saying goodbye, I was short on time. I splurged for a taxi ride to the bus depot, and got to the gate within five minutes of my New York-bound bus departure.

The ride was productive and, though we got caught in traffic, was tardy by only fifteen minutes. EB shortly thereafter arrived to pick me, and what I saw was horrific.

Her huge truck was nearly exploding with her chaotically over packed bags. Whitney was riding in back among the puppy and the suitcases. It was a disaster. We spent the next few minutes repacking

and redistributing items that hadn’t fit in EB’s original packing extravaganza. It was truly a sight to see. Quickly, we crammed everything and everyone back into the Ford Expedition, this time with two additional passengers: Logan (a friend of theirs) and myself. I may have been the

only one able to fasten his seatbelt; I don’t know what EB was thinking.

Jane (the third and youngest Harper sister) heroically gathered our dinner from Shake Shack while we zigzagged uptown and Warren (their dad) laid in the street saving us a parking spot. As we shoveled in the sustenance all sorts of characters couldn’t resist lauding Smuggler: one batty woman went so far as to start munching on his fluffy ears.

Our goodbyes behind us, EB, Smuggler, and I hurried up to wait in traffic to the airport. Once there we were the TSA’s nightmare: a heavily-

loaded SUV parked for 25 minutes. Sure, we were unloading it for part of that time, but the security guy became skittish after we were through unloading and the truck remained parked as EB and I tended to the dog and the baggage. Threatened with a ticket, I first faked, and after playing all my bluffs finally actually moved the car, returning it to its rental home. By this time the security guard had down our plate number, and given his furious scribbling, must have had a good sketch of me too: “if you see something, say something.”

After some more last-minute repacking, dog-feeding, and excess baggage-paying, our bags were gone through security, with only 45 minutes left before our flight departed. We were stopped just short of boarding for our excessive carry-ons. EB handled it like a pro, declaring we were in business class, at which point they unrolled red carpet down the jet bridge for us. We were without a doubt the riffraff of business class, with dog bowls strapped to the outside of my oversized backpack, and a heavy Trader Joe’s bag full of dog toys. Through the commotion my corkscrew must have been overlooked by security—it would be nice not to have to buy a new one. All aboard and situated, we reclined our seats and promptly fell asleep.