Don't Hate Me

Yes, I'm lazy right now. But considering I wrote this nearly three years ago now, I thought most of you have probably never read this story. So I'm reposting instead of posting, please don't hate me.


To me, the joy of traveling isn't just limited to the memories of the places we have been, but about the funny stories I can recall and retell for years. I'll post a few, although some were not funny at the time, they provide my family with some good laughs. Here's the first one.

You Have A Problem.

We planned a trip to Cancun many years ago. Although we had been on a cruise before, we had never been "officially" flying into another country. Leaving Indy, they checked our ID, which back then only required a birth certificate. Since mine had been just a copy, I had gotten a state issued one for our travel. Bob had his original one which was issued by the hospital and had a raised seal.

Back in the early 90's, Cancun airport was a mess. There were several hundred people all trying to get through a very intimidating Customs. Bob had noticed when we landed that there were actually tanks at the airport and many people with military style guns.

We were novices and nervous.

When we finally made it up to the customs agent, he looked at my birth certificate and moved to look at Bob's. Hmmmm, hospital issued, not state issued.

The agent, a very large scary looking guy, shakes his head. We looked at each other. The birth certificate should have been okay, we had checked at Indy. This guy just kept shaking his head. He said, "Robert, Robert, Robert. You have a problem."

WHAT DID THAT MEAN?

We are already in Mexico, what are we supposed to do. The agent said, "Birth Certificate, not good." It was loud in the airport and both of us could barely hear the agent. I leaned forward to hear him better and he gave me a stern look and gestured with his hand for me to back up. Again, "You have a problem." Bob laughed nervously and said, "What are you going to do? Send me home?"

The agent kept gesturing with his hand as if Bob should place something else in the paperwork. Ahh, something else. Bob patted his back pocket where his wallet was. The agent shook his head, and said, "Back of the room, back of the room." Bob understood right away, He was to take his paperwork and go to the back of the room and THEN add a little something extra to his paperwork.

Then the agent told me I had to go on through the line. He was separating us. Normally I can maintain calm, but this scared me. I looked up and I could not find Bob in the massive crowd on the other side of the line.

A couple minutes passed and he went back to the agent with his newly enhanced ID. The agent opened up the paperwork, took the $20 and said, "Thank you for the tip."

Nice.

I could not wait to get out of that airport. I was afraid it was a set-up and they would also arrest him for bribing a customs agent. I kept watching for some police to follow us. We only stayed in Cancun 4 days and worried the entire time that we might have problems getting back on the plane. There were none.

Back in customs in Indy, I asked the customs agent if the birth certificate had been ok. He said it was. I told him the Mexico agent "scared us".

I was afraid if I told our customs agent we had bribed the Mexican agent he might have to arrest us. The Indianapolis Agent knew what I meant. He said, "Get passports, they won't try to scare you again."

The Cancun airport has changed considerably since that time, it's now clean, efficient and welcoming. And the next time we went, there was no problem when presenting our passports.

But even 15 years later when Bob does something crazy, my family still repeats, "Robert, Robert, Robert, you have a problem."