Right after our marriage, Andrea and I were looking forward to the reception to blow off the stress from the days and weeks leading up to the ceremony. We had guests from half a dozen states and three different continents. It was an epic celebration with loads of mini-reunions, dancing, and true to Filipino custom, food that was off the hook.
Towards the end of the evening when guests started to make their departures, a member of the Washington DC contingent, a mountain of a man, walked up to me and gave a bear hug. "Ow! Hey, we really appreciate you guys making the drive for us. Thanks, for coming, man." He shrugged it off. "Wayne, there was no way I was going to miss this party! It's been a long time coming!" He then extended his hand. When I shook it, he turned my wrist, facing my palm up. I felt something odd. When he withdrew his hand, I looked down. Dude had just palmed me a joint.
I looked at him and back at my hand. "Jeez, man, is this what I think it is?" He just smiled a Cheshire cat grin.
"Yep. You and Andrea have fun now, ya hear?" My head whipped around to see if anybody else noticed.
"Are you kidding me!?" He gave me a wink, a final wave goodbye, and sauntered off.
I did a quick mental run through of the guest list - no LEOs. I jammed the contraband into my pants pocket and continued to make rounds with the remaining guests.
Later that night, I told Andrea about our "present" and we both had a good laugh. Neither of us was interested in lighting up, and I didn't know what to do with it so I stuck it in my Dopp kit's pocket.
After our honeymoon, Andrea and I made our way back to Maryland and settled into married life. She continued with her work and I started a new job. We wound up taking a lot of road trips, exploring the state I hadn't called home for over two decades. There were longer excursions to visit relatives in New Jersey, day cruises down Virginia's Skyline Drive, and even a one year anniversary trek up to Martha's Vineyard.
We eventually had a gathering of the DC friends who were at our wedding. Among them, was Dude who'd given me the joint. "Hey, did you and Andrea ever use my present?"
I realized I'd lost track of it. Then I remembered. Holy crap - the Dopp kit. Returning readers will realize it's the very same kit I always carry with me when I leave home. I ran to the bathroom and hastily unzipped the front pocket. At first, I didn't see it, but then, buried deep in a crease, I extracted our wayward contraband wedding gift. For the past year and a half, I'd unknowingly been packing a joint across a dozen state lines.
I held it up for him to see, and his Cheshire cat grin returned. "Hey! Cool! Ummm..are you gonna smoke that?" I shook my head.
"Uh, probably not."
"Oh....well...can I have it?"
"Knock yourself out, big guy."
For the previous eighteen months, I was basically this guy's mule. My man, Glenn Frey, knows the struggle.
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