Traveling Observations

Posted by: Admin  :  Category: Web Hosting

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Not too long ago I visited Houston, Texas to say hi to the people of cPanel. That will make excellent reading btw. However, I am going to tell the tale of the misadventures leading up to that point.

You can say it all started at John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana, Ca. I was flying with a female companion and she didn’t have enough space in her luggage for everything so I put some of her stuff into my bag. This includes a curling iron, a bra, shoes, and a few incidentals. Now we had to the ticket kiosk and proceed to get our tickets.

Her’s print out so I hand them over, then mine print out. The name on my tickets?  Dunlap, David Mrs. If you could mix a deer caught in the headlights with tripping off the stage at your graduation you would probably match my expression. After a few minutes of collecting my thoughts I just had to laugh. Whatever, who reads the name part of these things anyway. Onward to the security checkpoint!

Wait… security checkpoint. We are inline for security I have my ID out and yes my ticket. The security guard looks at me increduously, I smile back, almost begging him to ask. He looks back down at his podium and waves me threw. Now at this time I am told to move to the far conveyor belt on the left and my companion had to go to the one on right. So we are no separated.

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I take out all of my stuff, shoes, laptop, mini book, liquids, etc. Start moving the bins down the line and into the hopper. I proceed through the metal detector and end on the other side waiting for my stuff. ALARMS go off! OOOO I wonder who is in trouble…

Apparently I didn’t pull out all of my liquids, my case gets pulled to the side. The TSA agent, an older gentleman, probably in his early 60’s, looks at my ticket. Looks back at the ticket, then back to me. Gives me a suspicious look, then places the bag in question firmly between us. He asks if we will find anything horrible in there, guns, bombs, machetes, tapes of the Bay City Rollers, etc. I say no. He asks again because he says he doesn’t want to be surprised, shocked, or disturbed. I said open away.

The bra, as if pulled by a slingshot flies out of the bag, the flat pumps fall out and the curling iron, in its innocent bag, looks suspiciously like something else. He looks at the stuff, his eyes wide in shock and surprise, then looks at me, then at my ticket. He spots my hygiene kit and pulls it out stuttering at the fact that this bag probably contains the liquids in question and he goes about closing the travel, hopefully never to see it or me again.

Upon finding liquids in the travel bag my bag was slid through the scanner again then handed back to me as if it was contagious.

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