As I travelled to Spain this week, I couldn’t help but remember a trip about eight years ago, made with two of my closest girlfriends. We were heading to Newport, Rhode Island for a long weekend, and I don’t deny we were ready to party. My friend Trixie (yes, there is more than one of us — we all call one another Trixie) had a few tablets of “herbal ecstasy” in her Advil bottle, just something she bought at the herbal remedy store that none of us had any high hopes about. I had smoked a bit at home before leaving for the airport, but wasn’t carrying anything.

And yet practically the moment we stepped into the terminal, a big shaggy-haired orange dog came bounding up to me, and soon was on his hind legs sort of dry-humping me. Idiot that I was, I thought it was just some friendly traveller’s dog and greeted him with hugs and kisses, until I noticed who was at the end of the leash — a big, burly, dumb-looking cop.

“Come with me, ladies.”

And the hell began. I explained that I had been at a party the night before wearing the same coat and people were smoking dope there. But they soon started going through all our things as we sweated bullets. As I was interrogated and threatened with a strip search, I heard them emptying the other Trixie’s Advil bottle. And soon I heard this: “Is this ECSTASY????”

Party fucking over.

In the end, despite an hourlong interrogation, the fuckers didn’t charge us with anything, believing the other Trixie’s story that she had just grabbed the bottle from her boyfriend’s medicine cabinet and didn’t know there was anything other than Advil inside. Instead, the other Trixie had to pay a $500 fine on the spot and sign one of the most hilarious declarations ever, given her lifelong affection for recreational drugs:

I, Trixie-Jean McTrixter, hereby solemnly swear that I do not do drugs, have never done drugs and will not do drugs at any time in the future.

It is framed and hanging on her office wall. Last time I smoked weed with her at her place, we looked at it again and laughed. But that outwardly horny but inwardly malevolent drug dog, I must say, haunts my dreams. I remember him every time I walk into an airport.

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