A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home...

So...this past weekend, I had an INCREDIBLE time in the amazing city of Atlanta, GA. It was my first time there and I absolutely fell in love with all of the rich history there. As great as my experience was though, the time eventually came for me to head on back home.

As I do pretty much every time I travel, I took public transportation from my hotel to the airport. In this case, it was MARTA.

I get on the very crowded train, filled with Atlanta Falcons and New Orleans Saints fans, and there's no where to sit. So I grab onto a pole, and very white-knuckledly hang on for dear life. Thankfully, I only had to ride that way for one stop where the train practically cleared out.

I grab a seat, chatted with some nice ladies from Wis-KAHN-sin, and we finally arrived at the airport.

I head straight to the security checkpoint and found it interesting the way they do things there. You don't have to take your shoes off, and you don't have to take liquids out of your bag. They simply swab your hands. Simple enough, right?

So my turn comes up and the lady tells me to hold out my hands. I comply. She sees that I'm standing there with my hands out as if I'm about to catch something and she tells me that I can relax and put them down.

"This'll only take 10 seconds."

So I put my hands down and wait.

Next thing I know, her screen is FLASHING RED with the words "Explosive Substance Detected" (or something to that affect).

WHAT?!?

She looks at me and in a very stern and official tone she says, "So much for relaxing. I'm going to need you to step aside."

WHAT?!?

She then radios for backup because now, I have to be searched.

WHAT?!?

So two female agents come over, take my bags (I wasn't even allowed to TOUCH my things), and moved me over to the side where I was asked to remove my shoes. I complied.

One agent checked my feet while the other went through both of my bags...THOROUGHLY.

"Do you have any sharp objects in these bags?"

WHAT?!?

"No."

She continues to search and swab the inside of my bags looking for traces of who-knows-what.

Ok. Bag inspection is over. Foot inspection is over.

"Ma'am, we're going to need you to come into the private screening room so that we can do a body search."

WHAT?!?

Into the room we go.

I didn't have to undress, but I was touched...a LOT.

Finally I said, "I don't understand what made the machine go off. I don't have anything dangerous on me and the only thing I've touched was the pole on MARTA. That's probably where whatever was detected came from." I know I was reaching, but it was the ONLY thing that made any sense to me.

No response from either agent, just continued searching.

Finally one asks, "So Ma'am, where are you going?" Even in an event as serious as this, Georgians are still POLITE.

"Home to California."

"Ma'am, what were you here for?"

"My annual running conference."

"That's nice. Okay. Well you're all clear Ma'am. You can head to your gate now."

WHAT?! That's it...PHEW!

"Thank you."

And so began my trip back home which had even more hiccups in store, as in...a late departure due to a storm that was passing through...then missing my connecting flight by THREE minutes, and a plane ride that seem to last forever.

Nevertheless, it sure is good to be home!

Let the DIALOGUE begin: What's the CRAZIEST thing that ever happened to you at an airport?

Talk to me!

Til next time...