Boob bomb

Have you ever thought to yourself, ‘hmm I wonder if this hair-do is too big’? I haven’t, but after my most recent foray through airport security I will.

I slip through airport security in Boston with liquids scattered haphazardly through my bag, no ziploc bag in sight and no problem.

I head back home through Raleigh, North Carolina. The young woman ahead of me stands in the naked-picture-taking machine. They retain her. One TSA official remarks to the other,

“There’s something metal in her shirt around here.” The official gestures to her boobs.

Seriously? It could be a knife but it could also be the underwire of her bra. They motion me into the machine and let her move along. As I’m about to walk away, the TSA official barks,

“Don’t move. We need to inspect your hair.”

The lady official spends the next few minutes poking around in my bun. She finds nothing, but then again she didn’t really try.

Moral of the story: you’re on your own to watch out for hair grenades and boob bombers.

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