Sometimes things don't go quite to plan.
Heathrow Airport, Terminal 2. An airport I have visited 100s of times in my business life. This time, I get dinged by the security system. Not a belt, nor a watch.
"Sir, would you mind if I take a look in your rucksack?"
"Sure - please go ahead."
"Can you help me find your corkscrew?"
A slight look of bafflement from me, but then I remembered my black bag inside the rucksack. The one I use to carry electronic chargers, USB wires and similar. It's been in my car for ages, and that's the source of the problem. I'd had a Swiss Army Knife which I used to take on planes but when it was banned, I moved it to my car. Then I tidied my car and threw it into the black bag. The black bag which I then subsequently put into my rucksack.
It was a triple cherry situation for the security folk. I'd got a knife in my backpack. By asking me to locate it, they could prove I knew its whereabouts. The Swiss, being thoughtful engineers had made the blade lockable. Three cherries in a row.
Considerable activity as security call supervisors and start using radios. I get a firm telling-off and was reminded they could call the police. The knife was, of course, confiscated.
It's difficult to look relieved and grateful all at the same time. And I do sympathise with them and their difficult job.
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