Danger Will Robinson!

So this morning I flew into Denver again. The last time I had a little trouble in security ... okay, actually I was laughed at, but I seemed like trouble to me! Did things go smoothly this time? Um... sort of. I mean, I didn't get arrested or anything. But I did have a few things go a little hinky for me.
This is one of them.

Going through security? No problem.
Almost.
I was all kinds of ready. Nothing on my pockets, my shoes untied for easily slipping them off and on. I wasn't even wearing my belt, but had stowed it in my carry-on. I pulled out my laptop, netbook and my new e-reader and slapped them in two trays along with my phone. I threw everything through the x-ray machine and I walked through the metal detector without a hitch. I walked to the other side of the machine and waited for my stuff to come sliding out toward me.
And I waited.
And waited.
I looked over at the lady who was running whatever the scope is called that allows them to see through your luggage and check the general cleanliness of your underwear. She was looking through the scope into the bowels of the machine (I just constructed that entire sentence around my desire to use the word 'bowel' in a blog!), both hands up cupping the sides of her face to block out ambient light and allow her to see better.
She called another security officer over, and he took a look. Again with the cupped hands. They then waved over a third cuppy-handed individual, and he took a look.
They were all looking at my stuff, still in the machine. I began to have visions of myself huddling in the corner of a small room that reeked of stale sweat, feces and fear, trying in vain to cover my self as a large man stood over me with one upraised finger, like he had a bright idea. That finger, in my little vision, was slathered with petroleum jelly. I heard, heard the man say "Now, I'm not going to lie to you here. This is going to hurt you a lot more than it's going to hurt me!"
I was just starting to look for a good direction to run when the conveyor belt shuddered to life and the machine began to vomit out my belongings like a kid with no self-control the day after Halloween. I started to grin foolishly and grabbed my things. I slapped the shoes on my feet, tucked all the electronics away, and was about to pull out my belt and put it on when a large man wearing a security uniform came around the corner and hustled toward the security checkpoint.
As he went by, I could swear I saw Vasaline on his forefinger.
He was definately  already wearing blue latex gloves.

I left the belt in my carry-on and I ran for my gate!

Talk to you later!