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“Not too wild about what appears to be the “manufacturing” process on the floor.”

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WARNING: GROSS story about “local juices” below.

Reminds me of a fun time I had in Cartegena Colombia in my youth. At the time...it was a beautiful city....with many beautiful women.... ;)

I was “vacationing” down there and struck up a conversation with a pretty local lady....it was unbelievably hot that day....not a cloud in the sky. I asked her how the fruit juice was from the local vendors...she replied...”no, no, no...don’t drink that! Americano’s get very sick from that.”

Like a moron...I just smiled and sidled up to the local juice vendor and he made me 3 servings of this delicious concoction. Boy...it tasted good!

That was the last full day of my vacation there... and that evening....bad things began to happen in my gut. Rumbling like thunder....cramps.....etc....
I unloaded in the bathroom....Whew!
Not good... next morning I hit the local pharmacy and brought some strange medicine...I downed it. I headed off to the airport for my return trip back to the States on Avianca (best airline service I ever had).

Arriving at JFK...evidently I fit the “profile” of a drug mule...I was escorted off to a little room where three guys grilled me, tore my sneakers inside out...destroyed my suitcase..etc...looking for Gawd knows what. They were getting increasingly annoyed at their failed attempts to make the NY Slimes headlines the following morning...so they eventually asked me to take off my clothes down to my underwear.
By this time.... I could tell that round two was about to commence...my stomach was protesting loudly...I was tootin’ like a tea-kettle on an iron stove...

I KNOW what they were thinking...

I laughed and told them “you don’t EVEN want to go there buddy”... I told them I could not be held responsible for what ever happened after they asked me to bend over....because basically at that time I was using every muscle in my lower body to clench my butt cheeks together. They actually had (at that time) a small bathroom there INSIDE their little secret room...to let the drug mules do their thing...and hopefully eject a condom full of coke...etc...
Well...I told them they had two choices....
1. Watch me crap all over the floor in front of them or
2. Let me use their little bathroom.

They paused....and delayed... I’m tellin them... “Hey boys....you delay this process at your own peril”.

They relented and let me use the bathroom. I didn’t quuuiiitteeee make it to the toilet. The result was a friggin crime scene. I won’t elaborate much other than to say I’m glad I wasn’t the shmuck who had to clean that mess up. After endless apologies... and a suggestion that they might want to take a pen and poke through the disaster area lookin for what ever it was they were lookin for...they finally let me go. I could barely put my sneakers back on...they ruined them...and the lining was ripped out of my suitcase.... but I was none the worse for wear.

I must confess I wonder what would have happened had one of the officers pushed the issue further and done a cavity search.