I'm back in Pittsburgh. I capped off the Boston trip by getting yelled at by a Massachusetts State Trooper. The long story short: thanks to both spending my entire life at
The Co-op and being a complete and total scatterbrain, I managed to miss the fact that I had a box cutter in my purse. My favorite thing about this: My purse -- with the box cutter -- made it through the screening process at the
Pittsburgh Airport with nary a problem.
So
aaronbenedict and I make it to
Logan International Airport and he gets through security A-OK. The
TSA guy tells me my purse has to go through again and I say sure, no problem, start putting my shoes back on, yadda yadda yadda. But after the second time through the x-ray the guy tells me that I have a prohibited item (I'm thinking it's the Krazy Glue I stuck in there a million years ago to reaffix the "Mazda" logo to the trunk of my car;
aaronbenedict suspects me of drug residue. Both of us wisely keep our big yaps shut). Another guy takes my Passport and boarding pass and wanders away somewhere. The first guy finally tells me he thinks I have a box cutter in there and I tell him that I work in a grocery store and so, yea, that actually *is* possible. He digs around and finds it. The second guy gives me a printout ("So you think you might be a terrorist?" Well, OK, maybe not, but that was kind of the gist), says he has to make a copy of my Passport, that they have to do some sort of official report (whee! I'm officially signed up to be anally probed before every flight I ever take for the rest of my life) and then more or less literally tells me that a State Trooper is going to come over and yell at me, but that otherwise, I'll be fine.
The State Trooper, by the way, was a total douche.
aaronbenedict tried to defuse the situation with TSA Guy #1 while we were still standing around and waiting, but TSA Guy took it the wrong way and got up on his 9-11 horse, reminding us of the bad track record that box cutters have at Logan International Airport. He (the TSA guy) was right, of course, but we really weren't trying to disagree with them. Mostly I just apologized profusely and shook my head at my Lucille Ball-like ability to do shit like that.
Then they let us go (after the State Trooper talked to me like I was retarded for not realizing that I had a box cutter in my purse -- anyone who's seen how Sanford and Son my purse looks will totally understand how I could've missed it), and we went and sat at the gate and I cried like a four year old.
Oh, and
aaronbenedict told me that the TSA "randomly" did some sort of spot check at his gate, where they made everyone produce their ID and boarding passes. They took down
aaronbenedict's name as my co-conspirator, so we figure the "random" check was probably my fault as well.
They did let me keep my Chinese takeout, tho. Did I mention that I pack like I'm Sanford and/or Son?