Then they found my mustache scissors.
Them: You got scissors.
Me: Yeah, I thought small ones are OK.
Them: True, but we got to check.
So they ripped open my bag and searched the hell out of it.
I spent at least 25 minutes at security before they let me go. That's the last time I'll insist on wearing my shoes through the checkpoint!
All views expressed in this post and on this blog are my own. None of my comments should be construed to represent the views of others including and not limited to: BMC Software Inc., Corel Corporation, Dun and Bradstreet and AC Nielsen. Copyright Chris Hughes 2004-2012