I put my suitcase, my backpack, a tray containing my computer and the liquids baggy, and a tray containing my shoes and my dinner onto the belt and stepped through the personal scanning device, which I passed with no problem. As I went to wait for my stuff, the security guy asked me the dreaded question: “Is this your bag?” It was indeed my suitcase. My suitcase crammed full to bursting not only with everything I wanted to take for a week and a half in Florida but also several layers of sweaters, vests, and a jacket for arrival in chilly Massachusetts. “We’d like to just take a look inside,” he said. 

 

I got my shoes on and my backpack repacked with all the other stuff, and watched as the security guy undid the zipper of my suitcase. He undid the bands that keep my clothes folded neatly and began folding them all back to one side as he dug down toward the bottom.

 

I absolutely could not imagine what he might have seen in there, so I asked, “What are you looking for?”

 

He was vague, but asked if maybe I had a pack of spare batteries. Okay, batteries. “I have an iPod and a couple of spare batteries for it.” He dug that out and put it aside. 

 

“I also have a tape player, and there’s a couple of spare batteries for that, too.” That was in the other side of the suitcase, so after more rummaging around through all the clothes piled on top (further unfolding things, though he was very polite and did try hard not to) he pulled out the running belt with the tape player and spare batteries and put that aside. 

 

Then he found my night table kit, which, it turns out has in it a flashlight, along with (you guessed it) a couple of spare batteries. More rummaging, and he brought out my medicine/toiletries kit. Nope, no batteries there, but he added it to the growing pile beside the suitcase. Then he found the little box that had a little folding booklight in it. I’d forgotten about that, and it has, in fact, a very weird little battery. He added it to the pile. 

 

“We’re just going to run this through again,” said the security man, taking my suitcase minus the pile of suspicious objects and minus also a couple of books that had fallen out. 

 

And I’m thinking, thank heavens I allowed some extra time at the airport! (Yes, thanks, Mom; that came in handy!)

 

The security man returned shortly with my suitcase and announced, “Those weren’t it.” He began digging all the way to the bottom, and now I knew I was never going to get it all back together again. 

 

In a few moments, he pulled out a flat cardboard box (maybe only 3/4″ high by 4″ wide by 10″ long). “What’s this?” he asked.

 

What that was, was a set of twelve lovely antique crystal knife rests from Austria, a part of a place setting for a formal dinner in a bygone elegant era. They were a gift from a friend of my mother’s. “They’re crystal,” I told the security guy as he cautiously opened the box. 

 

He laughed, his relief evident. “Oh, crystal!” he said. “You know, that scans black.” And I thought, Like metal. Like batteries. Like explosives.

 

I guess it really *is* LEAD crystal!

 

So be warned, if you ever happened to be carrying any crystal through the airport, take it out of your bag in advance. I never did get all that stuff back into the suitcase right.