Little Bullet, Big Problem

Never ever in my travels, EVER,  have I ever encountered a TSA airport screening like the one in Las Vegas last week. And since it involved live ammunition, I hope never to do so again.

We were on the blasted 1 AM flight back to the East Coast. Note to self: never again. We arrived home feeling like death warmed over and then reheated again. I digress. Before we actually arrived home, we of course had to go through all the proper screenings at various airports and whatnot. In Vegas, we pick a line and begin to trudge through it. Our carry-on suitcases come through just fine, and we peer expectantly down the line for our backpacks. Nothing. In fact, nothing much at all is happening in our line, and there is a bunch of people just standing around. The screeners are very intently looking at their screen, the passengers waiting to go through the machine are intently looking at the screeners, and we are very intently looking for our luggage. At last, one of them arrives with Adam's bag in tow, and politely asks "Is this yours?" Indeed it is. He informs us that it will be over yonder and that we need to be there as well. Wonderful.

We put ourselves back together and head over to the nice TSA man who looks ready to do business. Opening the bag, he roots around a little and pulls out.........a rock. Adam had grabbed a rock from the Canyon. Whew, ok! Let's move on now.

Not so fast. The nice TSA man roots around a little more and pulls out the grand prize-None other than an unspent 9mm bullet. Ummm.....what does one say in such a situation? TSA man looks down the end of his nose at us and sternly, but still politely, wonders  aloud, "And is there a reason you are carrying a live bullet with you tonight?" Well, no actually, there is no reason at all that will suffice in this situation. And since we know we are not terrorists or have any motives other than just getting home, we both just start grinning. The situation is just so ludicrous, we couldn't help ourselves. Nice TSA man does not think anything is remotely funny and marches away with the bullet and the bag, telling us to have a seat. Good thing we are way early for this flight-mystery bullets usually mean a nice little delay.

We sit down and of course my first question to my newly betrothed is "oh dearest one, why do you have a bullet in your bag"? Simple explanation really. He has a few guns, he is a hunter, we just moved, he shoved a bunch of stuff in a bookbag (side note about my husband's packing/moving style-it's really quite heinous and involves lots of large black lawn and leaf bags) and somehow this little bullet never made it out-which says alot for TSA at Reagan airport in DC where the mystery bullet went undetected. Anyway, we sit there a bit and ponder our future. I do this rather dramatically as I consider a life on the no-fly list, a stint behind bars, or at the very minimum, a late arrival home. Adam doesn't seem to be concerned in the least.

As it turns out, apparently bullets are a not-so-rare occurrence. The lady that resolved our issue told us so matter-of-factly, and that there had been another one just night before. She also indicated very strongly that we should leave the bullet with her and we were happy to oblige. Taking his phone number, she told us that TSA may come calling.

So that is the story of the bullet. One for our children, one for this blog, and one that prior to a honeymoon with my husband, I never thought I would tell. Anybody care to share any similar airport security moments?