It’s A Secure Place

Before heading to the Fleet Center I stopped at a drugstore to buy an umbrella (because it was pouring down rain), a box of Band-Aids (in anticipation of blisters I would develop over the week) and hair mousse (to give my hair a bit of body in this humid climate). Big mistake.

Security Man: (shaking his head as he fingered my umbrella) Not allowed.

Me: Ugh. Are you serious? I’ve only owned it for an hour.

SM: Going in here (pointing to trash bin full of umbrellas).

Me: Shrug.

SM: (as he looks through my CVS bag) Or this (shake of head while isolating hair mousse I just purchased). No aerosols.

Me: Dude. That’s not an aerosol. That’s mousse. Like this. Sssshhhhhhhh.

SM: No hair products, ma’am. It’s going in here (pointing to real trash can).

Me: Can’t you at least put it there (pointing to trash can with all the umbrellas). Don’t totally throw it away.

SM: You’ll come back for it later?

Me: Totally. Thanks.

Later Bryan commented on how the security guard was flirting with me.

Flirting? What? You’re joking, right? I thought he just didn’t know the difference between aerosols and mousses…

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