Walking through the metal detector at the PV airport, I hear the familiar indicator that there is something metallic on or in my body.
Young Mexican male: Do you mind if I scan you?
Me with my hands up: Sure, go ahead.
Young Mexican male with Short Light Sabre: Smiles and outlines my body with his toy.
Handheld Metal Detector Device: Beep. Beep.
Young Mexican Male, looking deeply into my eyes: Bra?
Me, pointing at my face: I am old, if I didn't put them in a bra, I'd have to tuck them into the waist band on my comfort-fit mom- jeans.
Young Mexican Male: nods and indicates I am free to go.
Smug me, smuggling staples and bolts across international boundary lines in my bra: heh heh. Score!