After the perfect wedding, the airport hassle

By Kelly Brinkerhoff

November 26, 2008 | A strapless, long, white, ruched dress complemented with a plain veil and hidden white slippers. This is what my outfit consisted of on the most enchanting day in a man and woman's life. My wedding day was finally here.

Sept. 21, 2007, was the last day of summer and the day my boyfriend of four years and I chose to make vows to love one another through sickness and health. On this day the grass was still vibrant green and the leaves were changing from red to orange to brown before drifting on the ground by the light gusts of wind. The sky was clear and the sun was beating down an ideal 70 degrees. Six p.m. had arrived and the guests were seated patiently waiting for me, the bride, to walk down the aisle.

I wasn't nervous; I knew marrying Eric was the right thing to do. My dad escorted me from the Mercedes-Benz towards the white pillars where my guests were bathing in the sun, waiting for my arrival. We walked down the aisle covered in silk-like rose petals to the classic bridal march song. The sweet scent of the burnt orange Gerbera daisies and hot pink roses, which made up my small and simple bouquet, filled my nose with pleasure. This was it.

I met my soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle where he grabbed my hand and smiled. The bishop began his speech. Dazed, the world was moving around me and words were spoken, I had no idea what was being said until he asked, "Do you, Kelly Jean Rigby, take Eric Matthew Brinkerhoff to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I managed to squeak out, "I do!" We were finally married. The roaring audience gave us a standing ovation as we floated on cloud nine to the reception home.

The reception home was filled with vivacious Gerbera daisies and roses, with white candles flickering everywhere. Everything was exactly how I had envisioned it. The aroma of fresh maple-glazed salmon and herb-roasted potatoes filled the room as the guests were making their way in to the reception. After dinner, the disc jockey played music for our friends and family to groove to, pictures were taken, and toasts were made. Dancing our hearts out until 11 p.m., our wedding day was over.

The wedding may have been over, but another party was about to begin. Even though our honeymoon flight to California left at 8 a.m. the next day, we were going out to party with our friends. Our day had been perfect and nothing was going to ruin it for us. Seven a.m. came too soon. The phone was ringing off the hook until we finally got up and answered it. It was Eric's dad calling to tell us we had an hour before our flight left.

We jumped out of bed and immediately wanted to crawl back in. The light hurt my head, the room was spinning, and I didn't feel very well. We drank too much tequila the night before and the thought of flying didn't sound like much fun. We managed to packed up our suitcases and drove 15 minutes to the airport.

We checked in and made it to security having 20 minutes before our flight left. Eric reached the metal detector and walked through. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, the detector went off. He took his belt off, dumped the change out of his pocket, and slid the watch off his arm attempting to walk through again. He made it. Now it was my turn. I had already taken my watch and belt off, so I thought I was good to go.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. "We've got a red-alarm here and we need a female security guard to search this woman," the male security guard said. What could they possibly be searching me for?

As I waited for a female to come search me, a final warning came over the intercom calling for all passengers flying to Newport Beach, Calif. My husband sprinted to the departure gate to try and hold the plane. Begging and pleading with the gate attendants to hold the plane, they wouldn't budge. After waiting 10 minutes, the female security guard finally came to search me. She was running the metal detector all around my body and it was beeping like crazy around my chest area as if I had a bomb strapped to my body. That's it! I was still wearing the bustier I wore with my dress from the day before. It was covered with metal hooks! I explained the whole story to the security guard and finally she sent me off.

Could I make it? Running as fast as I could to the gate, I thought we were doomed. My husband was still waiting for me. We were going to miss the flight, and it's all my fault. As I arrived to the gate, they were getting ready to shut it. We made it! My husband's begging and pleading paid off. We walked on to the plane, packed with people giving us dirty looks. We didn't care, we made it and now we were officially on our honeymoon! We should have known that the perfect wedding day wouldn't last forever!

NW
MS