My family has always been synonymous in living the humble lifestyle. My brother and I grew up in a stable family, but my parents did an amazing job raising us to understand the true meaning of a dollar (more so, the true meaning of every penny earned). They reiterated the importance of giving and taking care of the people you love. My Mom and I are really similar in the aspect that we both truly enjoy the simple things in life.
So I asked my Mom, “What do you want for Christmas?” She quickly answered, “Gio [lua], from that place in Dallas!” For those of you who are wondering what in heavens is gio [lua]… It’s a Vietnamese pork roll. It is also called cha lua, depending on the dialect. Anyways, I got up early Sunday morning and drove to the little bakery that sold it. Apparently, it’s the best she’s ever had and she’s been dying for it. I went home and looked at it sitting on my kitchen counter. The pork roll was wrapped in banana leaves and held together by ribbons. HOW ON EARTH AM I SUPPOSE TO BRING THIS ON THE PLANE?!?
It looks like a grenade. A homemade bomb. A kilo of cocaine!
After pondering for a good thirty minutes, I decided to throw it in my tote and drive to the airport. I parked my car, walked, and checked in. Of course it was incredibly busy at the airport today (due to holiday traveling), my heart was racing, and I was so nervous as I was next at the security checkpoint.
*please don’t search me, please don’t search me, pleaseeee don’t search me* “Ma’am, I need you to step over here.” Damn it! I felt my face burning up and I was dreading the moment as TSA pulled out the pork roll in the sea of travellers. Little asian women walked by and giggled. Everyone else walked by and raised their eyebrows in concern. I felt like I was in the middle of an episode of Locked Up Abroad. TSA ran the log through the cameras again, tested it, and told me it passed. I wanted to do my infamous beaver face, shrug, crawl in a hole, and cry.
I walked towards my gate and noticed a lot of people that were behind me in security were also on my flight. So, I confidently grabbed the roll out of my tote and carried it around like a baby. No shame, no game. I decided to blog the travels of this troublemaking gio, so not only can I look back and laugh; but I can reassure my Mom that I’d do anything for her. Even if I look like I’m part of the cartel, or a terrorist.
Oh, and this is Jerry. He thought my story was funny and wanted to be apart of it too haha:
I finally made it to Houston. Thank you you little pork roll, for making my holiday traveling that much more interesting.