The continuing adventures of a wayward farang and his new family as they try to survive in the land of smiles.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Helpful Post Office Tips....
My, my, my, what an interesting Friday we had here. I had just finished the first week of the new school year. I was drained, but pleased with the results of my new lesson plan. As I was leaving work, I got a phone call from Roong, asking me to meet her at the post office. I assumed that there was a registered letter, or some other such thing that I needed to sign for. No big deal, so off I went.
*Flashback* Last week, during an email to my Dad, I recall him saying that he was going to cut the grass that day. I remember saying that although I didn't miss cutting the grass, I did miss having a yard. Please keep this in mind as the story continues. Back to Friday.....
Upon my arrival at the post office, I notice my wife having what looks to be a very serious discussion with several men, most of which are in uniform and armed (guns out). When they saw me, things got very quiet, very quickly. The guy with the most medals snapped something off to the postal clerk, and motioned for me to go to him. He had an opened manila envelope in his hand, and proceeded to withdraw and hand me the one page letter inside. The note was a message from dad, reminding me of the grass email conversation we had the week before. Please remember, that I am the only one present with the ability read the note. After reading the letter, I looked at everyone like, "Ok, so what?". At which time the postal clerk dumped the rest of the contents of the envelope on the counter.
Dad had sent me a bunch of cut grass, as a joke. Hmmm..now let's think about this. What would happen if I sent about 2 ounces of dried green leafy stuff through the mail to the USA? Yup, the same thing. They were not amused. They asked me if it was marijuana. I told them I wasn't sure, and that if he would chase me up a pipe real quick, I would be happy to find out. They were still not amused. I explained what it was to Roong, who in spite of the seriousness of everyone else started giggling. She in turn explained it to the police. After a while, and much contents sniffing, they finally believed us, and we were allowed to leave. But, not without getting a severe lecture that luckily, I didn't understand a word of. And, the bastards kept my grass! There is no doubt in my mind that those clowns either tried to smoke it, or sell it within 15 minutes.
So, there you have it. Proof positive that you should "Just say NO", and shouldn't send grass through the mail. And Dad, a bit of Thai trivia, they can literally shoot you on the spot for drug dealing here, and next time, send the ganja to my school address, they never search educational material!