Michael couldn’t believe an airport security officer had taken his bag into another room. He needed to catch his flight. Finally, the TSA guy returned.
“Everything is good,” the TSA guy said, handing Michael’s bag back to him. Michael noticed that the officer had a little bit of guacamole on the side of his face. Michael froze and began opening his bag furiously.
“I need you to move along,” the TSA agent said.
Michael ignored the TSA agent.
Michael planned his whole travel day around a sandwich. He’d planned a layover in Cleveland because they had the best sandwiches in the country.
“I need you to move,” the TSA agent said again. He reached for his radio.
“My sandwich is gone,” Michael roared so everyone could hear. “You ate my sandwich.”
“Sir, I need you to move along,” The TSA agent said. Michael looked around wildly.
“Can I please speak to a supervisor?” Michael yelled. A woman walked over.
“Sir, what seems to be the problem?” the supervisor asked. He noticed that other TSA agents started to approach.
“This agent ate my sandwich,” Michael said.
“Stand down. He’s not a threat,” the supervisor yelled. The other agents returned to their posts. “Sir, we’re stopping terrorists here. Why would he eat your sandwich?”
“You guys have the best sandwiches in the country at that stand right before security – Mabel’s.”
“They’re very good, but he can get his own sandwich.”
“But he didn’t,” Michael said. “He went to that room by himself and returned five minutes later. My sandwich was gone. He ate it.”
“You went into that room alone?” the supervisor asked the agent. The agent shrugged.
“Listen, sir, what do you want?” she asked.
“I want to be able to get another sandwich and cut the security line,” Michael said. “I don’t even mind paying for a second one.”
“Sir, this is a matter of national security. I can’t make an exception for a sandwich. Have a good flight.” She walked off.
Michael looked at the TSA agent, dejected.
“I also really like their cookies,” the TSA agent said.