Airport Security… and me

You know you’re in trouble when you see your suitcase being reversed right back into the TSA security machines.

- “Is this your luggage, ma’am?”

- “No, that’s not mine. That belongs to a criminal, which I’m not. Ok, it’s mine. I’m the criminal. Except I’m not. I’m not a criminal. I swear. I’m a good person. I’m nice. See? I smile at you.”

- “Ma’am, you can not bring more than 3 ounces of liquid with you on an airplane.”

- “Ohhhhhhh, that’s just my Diet Coke. And it’s almost gone. I don’t even need it. Just throw it away. Well, I do need it, but I can buy another one.  Do you like me? Should I stop talking?”

*crickets*

Out came the blue plastic gloves.

Out came the explosive testing strip.

Out came the shackles, chains, and prison sentence. Well, not really, but it sounds interesting. For someone else. Not me. I’m innocent.

My advice to myself: Just shut up.