My wife the terrorist
On our way to New York, I was stopped by airport security because there was a suspicious substance on one of my film canisters.
Security told me it happens a lot because anything with glycerin, including hand lotion, can cause a positive test. Luckily, my chapped hands didn’t cause us to miss our flight, and we eventually went on our way. I was not impressed with security, however, once we reached the Big Apple and The Wife started digging through her purse.
“Oh,” she said, “I have a fingernail file in my purse. I didn’t think you could bring those on planes anymore.”
You can’t.
“But I did,” she said. “Oh, I have matches, too. How did those get in there?”
Where did you get matches?
“I don’t know. Oh, I have a letter opener, too.”
A letter opener?
“Yes, and hey, how did this hand grenade get in here?”
OK, I made up the hand grenade, but how can security pick up a tiny trace of hand lotion, but the X-ray operator failed to notice three banned objects in one tiny purse?
Other Notes From New York:
1) If you get a chance to see “Avenue Q” on Broadway, I highly recommend it … unless you are offended by songs about porn and racism, adult language and puppet nudity.
Yes, I said puppet nudity.
2) When it rains, it really does pour. I have never seen so many broken umbrellas abandoned on sidewalks as I did in one windy, rainy week in New York.
3) On the flight home, we were stuck behind about 10 12-year-olds and a teacher returning from a class trip. I could tell the munchkins had the highest respect for the teacher, who let the little monsters do whatever they wanted, by the way they affectionately referred to her as, “Hey, Judy.”
Security told me it happens a lot because anything with glycerin, including hand lotion, can cause a positive test. Luckily, my chapped hands didn’t cause us to miss our flight, and we eventually went on our way. I was not impressed with security, however, once we reached the Big Apple and The Wife started digging through her purse.
“Oh,” she said, “I have a fingernail file in my purse. I didn’t think you could bring those on planes anymore.”
You can’t.
“But I did,” she said. “Oh, I have matches, too. How did those get in there?”
Where did you get matches?
“I don’t know. Oh, I have a letter opener, too.”
A letter opener?
“Yes, and hey, how did this hand grenade get in here?”
OK, I made up the hand grenade, but how can security pick up a tiny trace of hand lotion, but the X-ray operator failed to notice three banned objects in one tiny purse?
Other Notes From New York:
1) If you get a chance to see “Avenue Q” on Broadway, I highly recommend it … unless you are offended by songs about porn and racism, adult language and puppet nudity.
Yes, I said puppet nudity.
2) When it rains, it really does pour. I have never seen so many broken umbrellas abandoned on sidewalks as I did in one windy, rainy week in New York.
3) On the flight home, we were stuck behind about 10 12-year-olds and a teacher returning from a class trip. I could tell the munchkins had the highest respect for the teacher, who let the little monsters do whatever they wanted, by the way they affectionately referred to her as, “Hey, Judy.”
posted by David at 12:11 PM
3 Comments:
I just want to say ... part of the reason I never write my own blog entries is because I have to post for "Mr. Clean," an excellent writer but a computer illiterate.
Me smarter than she think.
In unstable market only safe investment is porn.
I really need to see that show.
DCP
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