I know that you're all salivating to hear the story that my lovely wife decided was mine to tell, so here it is.
Amy's dad drove us to Logan International Airport in Boston early in the morning, so we arrived plenty early. After printing our tickets we joined the already backed-up line to make sure that Amy could get in because of the ongoing Godwin/Gilmore dilemma. We stood in line for about 20-25 minutes before getting to the front of the line and finding out that we did not need to wait in that line. Then we pushed, pulled and carried our baggage to the security checkpoint. And here's where things started to happen.
Amy and I both got out our wallets to show the kind man our ID.
Horror of horrors, Batman!
My driver's license was gone! I stared at my wallet with a dumb look on my face as my mind raced through all the other places it could possibly be. Unfortunately, the only thing I could come up with was that I had accidentally thrown my driver's license away with my boarding pass and ticket upon arrival in Boston.
So, I jogged back to the ticket counter and cut in front of at least 100 people waiting for their boarding pass. I told the kind lady my predicament and she reprinted my boarding pass and added an extra security code and warned me that I'd be searched. I thanked her and ran back to the line for security. Halfway there I realized that I wasn't tugging my carry-on behind me. All I had with me was my backpack. I had left my carry-on in the line when I took off to the ticket counter.
I looked all around as the line moved forward. I couldn't see my bag anywhere! I finally reached the front of the line. The airport employee checking ID was a new guy so I asked if someone had found a bag in the last few minutes. He said, "Oh, you're that guy." In case you're wondering, this did not bolster my wavering confidence in actually catching up to Amy (by this time, she's already waiting for me on the other side of security) and making our flight.
He told me to go back to the restaurant halfway to the ticket counter and ask the state troopers with the dog, because they had my bag. I thanked him and ran back to the state troopers. I interrupted their conversation, identified myself as the guy who left his carry-on by the line and asked if I could have it back. They all gave me a condescending look that I tried my hardest to ignore. One of them pulled out his walkie-talkie and called a fellow trooper who had my bag. The trooper told me to go outside and find the all-black truck. He also added that it would be $100. I was pretty sure he was joking, but I didn't think it was that funny. Once again, I thanked him and ran outside the airport where I saw an all-black truck just stopping. The state trooper stopped the car in the morass of traffic, got out, walked all the way around the back of the truck, gave me a look of disgust, opened the passenger side door and handed me the carry-on. I thanked him and ran back inside the airport and got back in the security line for the third time!
When I reached the front of the line I told the man checking ID that I had lost my driver's license and had already talked to the people at the ticket counter. I showed him my credit cards and my bank card. He examined them quickly and let me through. I put my carry-ons through the X-ray machine and had to be taken to the little area where "random" searches are made. A kind sir searched me and then searched my carry-ons. Everything was fine until he unzipped one of the outside compartments on my suitcase. I had forgotten that that's where I had placed the ice pops

that my mother-in-law had put in my stocking on Christmas morning.
"What the [heck] is this?" he asked.
At this point I'm completely embarrassed because this obviously doesn't look good. These could be bombs, drugs, etc. I sheepishly told him that I got them in my stocking for Christmas. He grunted something about it being okay and then continued searching. He then asked me why "that girl over there is staring at us." "That girl" happened to be my wife, who was patiently waiting for us to finish. He finally finished and let me go.
Amy and I then literally started jogging to our gate. We heard a final boarding call and they announced that they needed "Andre and Amy Gilmore to come to" the gate. We made it on the flight but couldn't sit together.
So, all in all, it wasn't a bad day. Just another fun day in this post-9/11 world!