Jail Bait

Had an exciting start to our New Zealand ski trip as we arrived at the Queenstown Airport.  Jeff had the distinct honor of making friends with the drug dog (not a friend you want, by the way).  It should be noted that it's not cool to ask to go to the bathroom when you and your spouse are being escorted to the inspection area for a drug dog indicating on one of you.  Jeff was then treated to the finest unpacking and repacking that the Customs guards in NZ offer, and asked about 50 million questions.  Needless to say, he was clean ... though the portable scale he carried (to ensure continued compliance with strict airline baggage weight limits) was of particular interest to the agent.

It doesn't end there.  Imagine our surprise on Saturday evening when we saw our friendly Customs guy AND his dog staying at our hotel.  Jeff thought they were tailing him.  Our friend, Matt and I were chatting up the guy and the dog, while Jeff stood there speechless.  He was wearing the same jeans the dog had previously indicated on.

THEN, (yes, it gets even better) we run into the whole Customs crew at an Irish Pub in town.  The inspecting agent greeted Jeff at the bar asking "how's your trip been you drug dealing expletive?".  They had already heard about our run in with the other agent and the dog and Jeff's lack of engagement in conversation.  It seems he's become a NZ Customs legend.

Released from NZ Customs