Since the twin towers, airport security has come a long way. In addition to cornering us with hard-hitting questions like, "Did you pack these bags yourself," they now randomly check for toe jam. Bottom line is that anyone -- even the recently probed Al Gore -- is suspect.
Last week my wife got mixed up in the madness. Security pulled her aside and suggested, if you will believe it, that she was smuggling scissors. My wife thought it was called "snuggling," because you hold the item close to your body, but we digress.
Rooting through her bag -- not the one with sex toys -- security found what it was looking for: a deadly pair of nose hair trimmers.
The guard placed Exhibit A in a plastic bag, which was rushed to Lethal Weapon Headquarters. He told us that we could retrieve the trimmers upon our return, but we decided to buy a new pair at the 99-Cent Store unless, of course, we could find them first at the 98-Cent Store.
At any rate, our homeland was once again secure against bubbly Dominican girls with long nose hair.
On the airplane my wife was searching her purse for eyeliner when she poked herself with hairdresser shears -- real, live, actual SCISSORS! We glanced around to make sure no one was watching and, after weighing the options, did the only thing we could do under the circumstances ... we gave everyone on the airplane really bad haircuts.