[porksoda]

OK, seattle; Washington State is one of my favorite places. I'm african, I didn't think twice: I mistakenly walked out of the bar with my beer in my hand, to fetch something from the car.

The ten minute fiasco that followed, during which I was not permitted to re-enter the bar with my beer, but not permitted to put my beer in the trash can, nor permitted to "finish it" and throw the can away, I had to "pass it over the line" with outstreched arms, as though it was radioactive.

(edit: mis-remembered. I actually had to pass it over the wall that surrounded the entrance, not over the entranceway itself. Maybe that's part of the rules).

There were no cops on the scene, but I FELT we were on the verge of someone calling nine-fucking-one-one.

In order to re-enter the pub (closest to my airbnb), I had to "ask forgiveness", and I was "lucky enough" to have it bestowed on me.

Honestly I felt like a forty year old child.

[porksoda]

The thing I confabulated this with, was a memory of a TSA agent and I, exchanging a "forbidden" item. That was also really weird, though I kind of get why the overreaction exists; surely someone in an airport somewhere's died of a keychain-pocket-knife before.