I was wearing my SWK Nightstalker (through ORD), and had taken off just about everything else but my t-shirt, socks, and a determined smile. My kilt pin came off and went in my backpack, along with my sporran (which had the wallet and car keys). Mrs. Coder and Baby Coder had already gone through security (and were waiting to catch my laptop), when, suddenly, my backpack comes back and goes through again. And again. Finally, the TSA agent running the XRay machine asks, "Is this yours?" I reply in the affirmative. She then asks if I have a cross or something in the side. Nope, I say. It's my kilt pin. She nods her head sagely and passes my backpack through.

It seems that the buckles on a Nightstalker are made out of solid iron. I pegged the magnetometer going through, and went to their little plexiglass room. They couldn't get the little wand within a foot of those buckles without it going off. So, they run the wand over me front, back, up each side, and then make me spread my legs and run the wand up ("Watch where you're sticking that thing, pal!") and back down the inside of my thighs. Then one of them makes a remark about my skirt (which I didn't even feel like fighting about at that point), and we were off and running.

And, when we get to our gate, I'm approached by an off-duty cop. He asks The Question Part 2. I reply that I'm not a piper yet, but I'm learning. He thanks me on behalf of all cops everywhere for being (in his eyes) a member of the group of people that play at police funerals.

This made up for the hassles at the security checkpoint.

Bri