Disaster has struck again so my blog will be succinct.

I arrived in NY to yet another leak in my bedroom ceiling…this is #7. The most recent from the “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” in the above apartment resulted in $50,000 worth of damage and being displaced in a hotel for 6 weeks, commencing right before Hurricane Sandy hit NYC. I am sleeping in the living room and dealing with the insurance company, plumbers, Co-op Board and all related matters…happy times. This is definitely not the road less traveled for me….

Let’s step day in time to yesterday and Wednesday’s adventure which culminated in entering into my NYC water park around 8pm Eastern Time. I headed to the airport around 8:30am PT. I  entered the terminal, took my place in the security line, stripped down, took off my shoes, had my innards x-rayed and was promptly detained because I was charged with carrying a weapon.

Barely clothed and shoeless, I was requested to step to the side and keep my hands away from my bag. I was informed that they were looking for an item inside my Louis Vuitton carry on that could be considered a weapon. I asked for more guidance and was told that they “wanted to identify” my brass knuckles. Since I am usually unarmed, except for my tongue which has on occasion provided a verbal tongue lashing (the extent of my physical violence!) I was perplexed…an epiphany and the potential culprit came to mind. I was packing an Alexander McQueen evening knuckle bag! From a suitable, unthreatening distance, I pointed to the grey bag cover within my Vuitton. With gloved hands, the agent procured my McQueen and starting clicking her tongue over my lethal weapon. “I am sorry, but I need to confiscate the weapon and show it to my supervisor”…suppressing a scream and with clinched jaw I whispered, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

I stated the fact that it was an evening bag and also pointed out that I had read an article in the NY Times about McQueen bags and shoes and that TSA has recognized that these objects were fashion statements not weapons of mass destruction or intended for bodily harm!

She proceeded to seek out her supervisor with McQueen in tow. I followed her every move as I was not about to surrender my McQueen to TSA. I watched as her supervisor inspected every inch of the clutch. Thankfully, it was a male supervisor who appeared to not have any fashionista tendencies as lust did not register on his visage.

During the painful moments she had separated me from my McQueen I was plotting out my “McQueen Great Escape” from the airport. I would call David, have him return to the airport (the dogs were in the car…another scenario to deal with), run into the terminal, I would go to the balcony and toss McQueen to him for a great escape. My one problem was David is a lousy catcher and if McQueen tumbled to the marble floor, he may be damaged. I would have to quickly scout out a versatile catcher in the security line…so much to do, so little time, but the mission was to keep McQueen safe, in my possession and unharmed.

Half lost in thought, I saw the agent slowly returned to my half clothed, shoeless persona and said, “You are very lucky…we will not confiscate, but you have been warned. Do not travel with this purse.” The sweat was enveloping my body and I looked guilty as hell, but we all know why I was a mass of perspiration. I gingerly grabbed for my McQueen and moved on from the trauma. Crisis averted.

The 5 hour non-stop turbulence did not faze me after almost being separated from my beloved McQueen. And now I shall tend to chasing waterfalls in my bedroom…ain’t life grand.