Saturday, December 5, 2015

Home Again

I don't know what it is, but I often seem to be in trouble with security and/or customs.

The first time I remember was in Copenhagen when I had trouble about the knife I was carrying (1980).

Then I had that issue with the guns when we came back from Spain (2000).

At Washington, D.C., National Airport we had an issue with a pencil sharpener.  Not. Kidding. (ok, it was right after they'd re-opened post-9/11, but still).

There was the jam that was confiscated in Canada because I refused to check it (last May).

I'm sure there were other incidents that are not coming to mind at the moment.

Today, when I came back from London I had a really, really hard time with the question,
"What was the purpose of your travel to London?" 
I had to push down a very strong urge to reply, 
"To visit the Queen!" 
But push it down I did. I also pushed down the giggles. 

That said, when I was at the customs area and they asked me if I had food I replied, without hesitation, 
The nice young man asked me to put my bags flat on the belt and when they'd passed through he asked, with a slightly accusatory tone and very confidently, 
"What food do you have in the bag, ma'am?" 
To which I replied, confidently and perhaps a bit defensively, 
and then, after a pause, 
"Oh, I bought cookies at the airport ... " 
He asked if perhaps I had an apple. 
He asked if he could look through the suitcase. 
"Of course!" 
(still confident).

And what did he find?

My food stash for the flight, which I forgot about.  And hadn't opened.  It was purchased in Minnesota.

All I could say was,
"Oh!  Oooops!"


Mary Lou said...

No wonder we have problems with terrorism.

kmkat said...

Yep, you are one terrorist just waiting to happen.

When Matthew and I came back from South Africa in 2005, I was hassled because a messenger bag I had purchased in the Madrid airport had traces of explosives on it. WTF? On the other had, our luggage didn't even go through Customs because Iberia (pro tip: NEVER fly Iberia) had lost it. We were eventually reunited with it hours later, but the biltong (jerky made from various South African beasts) I brought back for Smokey did not get confiscated like it should have. This was during mad cow days, and nothing from hoofed animals was supposed to come into the US. Ooops.