why me or Security frisking part two

You have to have read my blog 'Command presence' to get this.  I rant about the fact that I always get frisked when going through airport security.  I have tried everything making eye contact, avoiding eye contact,  acting cool, nothing works, I always get frisked.  But, our last venture to the airport had to take the cake, as usual they called me over and frisked me, then made my husband Allan (who apparently looks a lot like Magiver) take off his shoes and belt and unpack his bag which they scanned several times after asking him in a stern voice 'Is this your bag Sir' It turned out he had a tiny tripod in the bottom which obviously looked like a tiny Nuclear Bomb.  I by this time was patiently waiting contemplating the fact that we may miss our flight by the time he packed up all his stuff.  Finally he was finished and I picked up my bag and turned to head off only to find that while all this was going on the man that frisked me several minutes earlier had finished his shift and a new fella had taken over….you guessed it, 'Excuse me Madam, can you just step over here'… You have got to be kidding me (I came close to swearing at him)

Travel Fitness

Paris Workout
We certainly increased our fitness level on our trip around the world.  Our Paris apartment was on the 5th floor.

 I hurt my knee just before we left, and even though it had swollen up because of the walking and stair climbing in England before Paris, we two seniors climbed up and down the 5 flights several times a day.  The little windy steps made it very easy to manage. By the end of our trip we were a lot fitter than when we started.  Now there was a lift = exhibit A

but there was no way I was travelling in this.  I did however, shove macho man above into with the cases when we first arrived and he lived to tell the tale.  He did say it wasn't that bad, but I noticed he didn't go in it again!

command presence

I really need to get that whole command presence thing going, you know the way people in authority are taught to walk, as if they have a stick stuck up their bottom, while at the same time scanning the rest of us as if we were just scrapped off the sole of their shoe.  I just cant seem act sensibly if I am packed to go anywhere at all.  Airports in particular bring out the Billy Connolly in me, as I get far too excited for my own good, and all of a sudden the Village Comedian in me takes over. Am I the only one that always beeps when I go through the scanner.  Oops! I forgot to take my mobile phone out of my pocket, beep beep!, oops! my shoes have metal in the arches, beep, beep!  Presumably, they interpret my giggling and loud friendly banter as a person who is definitely on something dodgy, or they need to frisk their quota for the day, and I look like a good sport.  Either way I always get a quick up and down with their little machine and get my bag checked for explosives or drugs.

Why are us noisy ones always picked on, I thought it was the quiet ones we were meant to watch!