by Pa Rock
This morning while running the obstacle course at the San Antonio Airport I discovered that I have a talent for smuggling. As I was dumping the contents of my pockets into the plastic tubs, I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to eat my breakfast bar.
"Piso mojado!" I exclaimed, causing every Spanish speaker within ear shot to look at their feet. I dropped the bar into the bin, resigned to the fact that a TSA employee would be enjoying my breakfast in a few minutes.
And sure enough, all hell broke loose as my three tubs (computer, shoes, books, etc) went through the x-ray machine. A little fascista came marching up to me holding the tub that contained my breakfast bar.
"Is this yours, Senor?"
"Si, Senor. Es mio."
He reached into one of my plastic bags in the tub and pulled out half a bottle of water. "You can't take this?"
"Piso mojado," I mumbled, and he looked at his feet. The little man from TSA kept the water that I had forgotten about, and me and my breakfast bar headed toward the plane.
Viva la revolucion!
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