I’m Sick Of Your Baggage

(I just got back from a vacation and I’m in the airport returning home. I’m not in a good mood because my vacation was ruined because I had gotten sick with a virus. I know that it’s not the TSA agents fault so I’m trying not to be impatient as they put me through security checks. My mom speaks to a grumpy looking agent.)

Mom: “Sir, could we bring our shampoos with us?”

Agent: “No!”

(He scowls at us, like he hates us, then grabs my backpack that’s fully of my dirty laundry.)

Me: “Um, that’s my dirty clothes.”

Agent: “Let me decide that, missy!”

(He rifles through my bag, and I’m afraid he’ll start throwing everything out by the way he’s being rough with it. He doesn’t, but his face was priceless when he realized I hadn’t been lying. My clothes are smelly and soiled. Finally, he throws it down at me with disgust and waves me through.)

Me: “Thank you!”

(I had to travel again soon after at the same airport, and I saw the same agent in a different line, and he looked pale like I did when I was sick! Karma! I don’t wish illness on him, but he deserved it!)