So close. So close, so close. So close. there
Finally after a day of that horrid shopping I'm up. So I scan, then bag. Scan then bag. Scan then oh my gawsh the red lights above the register start flashing. Sirens scream out. Out of nowhere two TSA looking agents rush toward me wearing rubber gloves. WHAT? My register says authorization required. This is a new one, it usually tells me to bag something I've already bagged (that's what he said).
The dudes come closer. Dude number one snaps his glove and gives me a wink. Oh good gravy I hope my underwear are clean, or at least not granny panties. I'm ready for the frisking; bring it on baby.
Dude number two says, "she's clear". huh whaaaat?
Oh right. I ask if it's because people sniff the markers (yep I bought permanent markers, contraband, killers of brain cells, not your friend.)
The answer was yeah. So I finish scanning and bagging. Thinking all the while. What just happened? Why was I cleared? Don't I appear to be a criminal type even a little bit? huh wha
So on the way out I ask, just to be sure, if I were a teenager would I not get authorization? That's right. hmmm Makes me feel safer for my tween daughter but come on . How do they know I'm not a backseat marker sniffer??