(This one’s just for fun. It reminds me not to take myself too seriously.)
“Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless.”
“I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”
Honestly, I wasn’t at all interested in Hector’s job description. I had a plane to catch. And this uniformed dude at the end of the security line didn’t seem to care about that in the least.
Although seldom at a loss for words, I did realize that none of the ones I was thinking about would be helpful to my goal. And visions of being hand-cuffed and carted off to jail as a national security threat if they left my mouth fueled my self-restraint. So I gave Hector “the look”. You know what I’m talking about. It’s the one perfected by mom, recognized by dad and feared by kids. It’s the one that says to our kids:
As I watched him tear into my carry-on luggage I remembered my husband’s words as he finished packing it earlier that day: “boy, I sure hope they don’t go through this bag!”
Voila. Out came children’s toys with movable parts, brightly colored building blocks and a beautifully wrapped birthday gift for our grandson.
“What’s in this package, ma’am?” Hector asked with the seriousness of an espionage interrogator as he pulled the questionable object from my bag.
“Two elephants,” I replied.
“It looks suspicious to us,” he said, frowning at the box in his hands as he gingerly carried it back to the scanner for a second look.
Of course it does. And we look like your typical terrorists.
And then I remembered my husband as security officials began to pat us down in places even my doctor can’t touch. He looked like a science project, wired and ready to explode. Having recently experienced a heart “episode” his cardiologist suggested he wear a thirty day monitor…the kind that came with diagramed directions, colored plugs and wires attached to various parts of his body, a monitor that dangled like a necklace around his neck and another contraption attached to his belt that talked to a satellite somewhere in the universe.
Swell -the perfect accessory for this adventure.
I guess it was a slow day through security because Hector now had seven of his best friends on the case of the suspicious pachyderms. They struggled into blue latex gloves, ripped open my package, carefully studied the whimsical stuffed animals, pulled out their handy-dandy chemistry kit and tested all our possessions for whatever they test for and, of course, reminded me that they were just doing their job.
Thirty minutes later eight security personnel held a committee meeting and allowed us to proceed to our gate.
My travel advice?
Never try to sneak an elephant through airport security…and, as you travel through life, heed that inner voice that sometimes reminds you to be quiet.