I’m flattered, really, that you regard me as some kind of biochemist who knows just how much of my body lotion to add to my contact lens solution to create the bomb that would destroy the airplane I need to fly on to get to Chicago. Seriously, I’m blushing as I type this knowing that my $65 BVLGARI (impressed, are you?) body lotion has made you so uncomfortable that the guys over in security will have no choice but to confiscate it. Unless! Unless I check my bag, which I did not plan to do, and pay you $15 for the convenience of checking my bag which, by the way, used to be COMPLETELY FREE / included in my still-inflated ticket price. But it’s fine! IT’S FINE. It’s just, you know, funny that you’d think I could make a bomb out of lotion when the truth is that you could give me ACTUAL BOMB-MAKING MATERIALS (what would that be? wires? dynamite?) and I would sit there with a stupid grin on my face thinking, What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?