World Poker Tour

Just as I imagined . . . traveling always provides lively material. As I was going through security this morning at the Burbank Airport (and how much do we love the Burbank Airport), there was a guy going nutso on the TSA representative – about the lotions and body products policy – you know, they all have to be separately screened and x-rayed in a clear plastic bag . . .

Now, the guy could have stepped out of the very short security line (did I mention how much we love the Burbank Airport) and come back with a plastic bag to protect his precious, small facial products. But, instead he decided to cross examine the representative about each item that had been discovered in his bag:

“Look inside. There’s hardly anything in there.”

Calm TSA officer: “I’m sorry sir, it is the size and type of the container that matters.”

“That’s crazy. It says three ounces. This one is three ounces. Who cares if I have a plastic bag.”

Calm TSA officer: “You can go out and check the bag – or get a plastic bag . . .”

I think it was about here that I couldn’t keep myself from intervening.

I said something like: “My guess is that this woman probably doesn’t have the authority to alter TSA and FAA regulations for you, sir.”

What I wanted to say was: “Arrest the son-of-a-bitch.”

A bit extreme, perhaps. But, prosecuting the case, I would argue that Mr. Product entered the security line cognizant of the policy (remember, he knew it well enough to cross examine our brave TSA officer ad nauseum). Yet, he sent his carry-on bag through anyway. Just to see if it would get pulled.

Then, when it did . . . he complained . . .

Hell, don’t arrest him . . . deport him!

This policy came into effect because those clever Scotland Yard fellows figured out that some wack-jobs were about to sneak liquid materials onto airplanes that could be combined to blow those planes out of the air. Anybody hear that?

Scary enough for you?! Scary enough to confirm the intelligence of the TSA policy not to let field agents determine or bend the rules?

I guess I’m okay with a little extra security these days. And, I think Mr. Product should go back to the bus.