TSA: Whatcha Got There?
A color-coded foam insert and a crumpled doctor's note are not, legally, a smoothie.
14 doses dispensed under this indication
A color-coded foam insert and a crumpled doctor's note are not, legally, a smoothie.
Hide-the-pain Harold rehearses the word 'skincare' while a Yeti cooler of amber vials rides the x-ray belt at 5 a.m.
The confidence of a man whose cooler bag contains a full reconstitution kit and the audacity to call it insulin.
Trying to pass a full reconstitution kit as a CVS haul while your forehead betrays you at the body scanner.
The TSA agent unzips the toiletry pouch expecting contact solution and finds a laminated stack protocol instead.
Sweating profusely in the TSA line after remembering your carry-on is 80% unlabeled vials and one very suspicious mini centrifuge.
The universal cover story for a carry-on cooler containing six vials that are definitely not insulin.
Forty vials, six ice packs, one pair of socks — the X-ray machine sees the stack and files for early retirement.
TSA pulls a frosted vial from your insulated lunch bag and you deliver the line you've rehearsed in the mirror for six weeks.
You labeled it 'snacks.' The handwritten logbook said otherwise.
The cooler is just serums. The vial rolling under the seat is just a serum. The ice pack is just for the serums. Please don't ask.
The protocol does not pause for vacation; the cooler bag does not declare itself.
When TSA finds your travel cooler of unlabeled vials and you deploy the 'beauty routine' defense with full eye contact.
Your phone buzzes. It's not an Amber Alert. It's the FDA telling you your 9-day cycle starts at the TSA checkpoint.