I'm a random woman, so I never wear underwire when I fly (all... five trips I've taken in my life...) Tennis shoes, since you never know how far to walk until the connecting flight.
So... 9:45 and I'm still the only one here...
The lady waved the wand around. ~Beep~ "Uh, those would be my earrings. See my earrings?" ~Beep~ "Uh that would be the MIRACLE BRA. It's a MIRACLE don't you think??" She glared at me. ~BEEP~ "Uh, that would be the clasp on my MIRACLE BRA. What else would be there? Tell me! Really!" ~BEEP~ "Uh, that is a button. That is a button on my jeans. It holds fabric together and that's a frightening thing." I hitched up my shirt and pointed. "See? It's a scary button! Beep! Beep!"
El Paso is a small airport so this turned into a circus. She-who-needs-Ritalin also got to be a random woman and she was busting up laughing so hard she couldn't keep her arms out and in the air. Her super security agent wasn't amused either.
It's not like either of us are illegal aliens, or islamofascists. The only Spanish SWNR knows is "ree-leno" which she likes and orders all the time and "muy caliente" which she doesn't like because she burned her hands on the plate. We occasionally have interesting souveniers in our checked luggage but we're harmless dingbats.
Flying makes me irritable.