A Whirlwind Weekend in Toronto
I'm on my way home after a weekend of fun in Toronto, where I went to see the Wedluxe Magazine wedding show during their industry preview night on Saturday. The Wedluxe show is an annual trip for me. I will take any excuse to visit Toronto, I adore the city and hope to have a full Wesson gplanning team here by next year, but in the meantime I'll take what I can get. Wedluxe happens to be an extra special treat because it's fabulous, luxurious and inspirational. I'll tell you all about the show in my next post though when I've had a chance to look through the hundreds of images and share them.
In the meantime, I'm on the bus home remembering my last ride back that involved getting interrogated by police with guns on the highway home. Yep!
I sat down at the back of my nearly empty bus heading home from Niagara. A young guy rushed on with an oversized suitcase, came all the way to the back and plopped down right beside me after stashing his huge suitcase in the vacant row beside us. The driver didn't seem to notice. He also didn't notice the two men that snuck on to talk to my new friend. Both seemed to be checking up on him, asking how he was feeling, telling him to call them on his new cell (clearly a burner) when he got to Toronto. At one point, one of them asked him "Where is it?" and buddy went to open the bag and said "It's in the side pouch on the left here." They snuck back off the bus after a conspicuous hand shake and left the guy nervously sitting beside me.
This was very clearly a drug run to Toronto and I was right in the middle of it. I felt like I was in The Wire.
Half way to Toronto, our bus starts pulling over on the highway but everyone, including my neighbor, was sleeping and didn't notice that we had now come to a complete stop.
The doors to the bus flew open and 6 armed cops stormed in with flashlights. Buddy was still sleeping. I made eye contact with the first cop who was clearly looking for my man, and I raised my arm and pointed at sleeping beauty. They raced to the back, knocked the hat off buddy's head yelling "IS THIS YOUR BAG?" repeatedly until he nodded. He was handcuffed beside me and hauled off the bus. Then I told to "Please step outside, Ma'am" to be grilled about how I knew this man. I felt bad-ass.
We had to search through all my bags in case he dumped any drugs in them while I turned my head. I told them where I thought the secret compartment in his suitcase was with the drugs (I called it) and 20 minutes later I was back on the bus headed home.
I'll take this kind of entertainment over an in-flight movie any day!