The Homeland Security Gift Shop

As much as I fly coast to coast, I should have known better yesterday when I went through LAX security on my way to New York. The day before, I had bought an extra large tube of hand cream and haphazardly tossed it into a pocket in my carry-on bag. I didn't give it a second thought.

As I prepared for my x-ray, I did my normal ritual. Sneakers off. Laptop out into a separate tray. DVD player out into a separate tray. I was a robot. Until my usual sequence was disrupted.

By Miz Thang of Homeland Security.

"Sir, we gonna have to inpsect your bag."

Huh?

Her Majesty donned her little white plastic gloves and began to go through my business. The offending item was found in short order. She triumphantly held up the hand cream.

"This is not allowed, sir."

I know, I know. Brain blip. Trust me when I tell you that I wasn't planning to moisturize a pilot to submission.

"Do you all want to take this down and put it in your checked luggage?"

You're kidding, right? Am I supposed to chase down a conveyor belt so I can pack this in my suitcase? I began to wonder if there are people who actually do this. I told her not to sweat it. She walked away with my newly purchased, barely squeezed hand cream.

I started to think about all the items confiscated from people who experience similar mind freezes. Where does it all go? I looked at all the Homeland Security staff around me. Most are one rung above French Fry salters at McDonald's. Are they the ultimate recipients of our mistakes? Do all these toiletries wind up in one big airport conference room? I imagined the lunchtime conversation between some of these security people.

"I'm outta toothpaste. Let me go down to "the store" and see if anybody had to give up their Colgate."

"I got myself some new Aramis for my man last week."

"Don't use that Sebastian shampoo shit. It don't work on our hair."

As I laced up my sneakers, I glanced over at Miz Thang one more time. She had already cracked my hand cream and was rubbing it all over the ashy spots on her arm.

Geez, she didn't even give her co-workers a chance.

Dinner last night: Sausage and peppers at the NY abode.