So. New plans. That means new travel preparations. New last minute travel preparations. Despite being separated by nothing more than an imaginary circle around the world, everyone had told me the customs process from Canada to the States was just as rigorous as everywhere else. Maybe even more so. They even do it all before you board the plane in Canada - customs, passport control, the works. Probably to save on deportations.
So the point at which my carry-on bag disappeared into the security X-ray machine was probably not the best time to have the shocking realisation that there might be a Stanley knife concealed within. And a pair of scissors. And a multitool with a blade. Heart palpatations doesn't quite cover it.
I told myself: nothing you can do about it. Pretend everything is okay for the nice security lady. Act normal. Besides, you probably didn't even bring the little sewing kit with those offending items with you, precisely for this reason. It'll be in the UK. Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.
No-one has said anything. I must be right. I did leave it in the UK. Fuss over nothing. Carry on through border control. Tell them how you're on a sabbatical, travelling, New Zealand next, touring the US. And I'm into the departure lounge. Safe. Coffee. Something to eat. Everything is okay.
Sitting in Starbucks. I wonder: will there be additional security at LA. Maybe they'll do X-rays again as part of the rigours. Maybe I should check in the bag. Just for peace of mind, you know. Besides, it won't be there. It can't be. Thorough checks. No-one said a word.
Open the zip. The little pocket with the whistle and the compass.
And the sewing kit.
Mark. Oh Mark. You absolute *****.
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