As I was rushing through security to get to the airport bar and down a beer before my flight (those pre-flight beers can be a savior...it can either say, hey don't bother me or I might throw up on you or hey I'm ready for a good time...just depends what kind of eyes you give the person sitting next to you) the TSA agend behind the scanner machine says, "Ma'am, are you an artist?" I was thrown off by a couple of things:
1. Ma'am? Wow, throw some cold water on my hot flashes why don't ya? Yeah, so I guess I'm not the cute young thang that I thought I was. Since when does 30 constitute ma'am? I'm still a miss fo' sho! I mean just because I bought a full coverage granny bra last week that has 2 hooks in the back and nice thick straps does NOT mean that I'm an old lady!
2. Artist? What the eff? Where is this coming from? After my confused expression, the TSA agents says, "well, I thought maybe you were because of the models in your bag, you know like those wooden models used for sketching?" 
I'm obviously still confused until I remember what's in my laptop bag...oh yeah the Pocket Es and B. Yeah...if she only knew. I guess my Pocket E photography could count as art, right? I immediately break a sweat because I am starting to fear the dreaded TSA bag search. You know what I'm talking about. They put on those blue gloves (like you have random body fluids in your bag?) and take everything out and put it on display for everyone to see. I figure I am doomed because my watch already set off the metal detector when I walked through. The gods must have been smiling because the TSA agent dropped the whole deal and let me get my ass down to the bar. Another crisis averted!
Look at my super-cool x-ray like effect. Okay not really, but I'm still learning!
