Thursday, August 19, 2004


The screener woman was very professional, and while my bag was still in the x-ray machine I asked her what time it was. There was plenty of time, so I volunteered to just take my bag back to the car. Of course, I could not do that before it was hand searched.

Screener lady: You have several options. 1) You can throw the offending items into the trash.
Me: Ummm, that is more than $1000 worth of work tools, and they are not going into the trash.
SL: 2) You can mail the offending items to your home or your travel destination.
Me: Well, I have to be at work in less than two hours, so what other options do I have?
SL: 3) You can go to the sign in counter and see if the agent will hold the offending items for you until your flight leaves.
Me: Well, I am not flying anywhere,
SL: Ma'am, you still cannot take the offending items past the check point.
Me: Yes, I understand, as I said already, I can take my bag back to the car.
SL: But the agent will hold it for you.

Like I am going to leave my scissors with anyone when there is adequate time to just go to the car. I explained to her again the value and necessity of the "offending items", and she gave me the oh-you-trust-us-with-your-child-but-not-with-some-dumb-scissors look.

Finally she handed over my bag and we were escorted back to the security point. Then as we were going across the parking lot, my angel says, with scissor case in hand, "No way is this $1000."

Me: Don't open the case.
Angel: [opens the case anyway]
Me: Be. Very. Careful.

Three pair of scissors fell from the case and that was all it took to open the floodgate of tears that was the amalgamation of the last three weeks.

It passed rather quickly, then at work I assessed the damage, and just one pair, my most used favorite pair of scissors, was determined to be somewhat fucked up. I will send them in for servicing and hopefully they will survive.

I have since fully detoxed, I think, and if not, will definitely fully detox at the beach in Galveston on Sunday.

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