Fog Shmog

So I've had my flight changed, I have checked in, again and I'm now being directed to security, again.  The guards apologise when the gate won't accept my boarding card but I can't go through security for 30 minutes, I'm too early.  I head for a coffee, which I don't really want and I'm now, boiling hot. 

After gingerly juggling handbag, case on wheels and my tray with coffee on it, I sit at a table near a French Mother, Son and Grandmother and a larger party containing US and English, I'm assuming, family members, one of the English women has the dirtiest laugh I've ever heard and she somehow manages to cheer me up.

Thirty minutes later, with coffee gone and Bazaar magazine with SJP on the front skimmed through, I head for security again.  "I've already done this once" I tell the nice security man as I place my belongings into two trays, I'm hoping to distract him so that my innocent boots don't have to be removed this time.  It worked and I sail through the detectors.

The tray containing my jacket, scarf and handbag, does not sail through and is side tracked to be double checked, should have taken the boots off, it's karma, and can I just point out that it was fine 90 minutes ago.  I'm now standing to the side, with five other people, the woman behind me is with her husband, she must be late 50's, and looks totally innocent, she is mildly worried, "what have I left in my bag?" 

Eventually, the two tourists in front of me, after having a very lengthy conversation about the pots of jam in their bag, agree to bin the jam.  "Who's bag is this?" I hold up my hand and smile broadly.  "You have liquids in your bag madam."  "Do I?"  I delve in, it's quite a big bag and it can contain innumerable items.  I instantly find my Carmex lip balm.  "There is something else madam,"  Oh God, what is in here?  I delve to the very bottom and find a tiny bottle of hand sanitising gel.  "There is something else madam."  What?  There can't be.  I rummage around the bottom of the bag and pull out two inhalers.  The guard looks like he's lost the will to live, "that'll do madam."  Guard gives me a plastic baggie to put my hand gel and lip balm into and waves me off.  I think he decided I was innocent in the end, let's face it, I don't look dangerous do I?  Several days later, I find a couple of dried out mascaras... at the bottom of my bag.

The idea of catching the early flight this time, was to give me an extra full day of my hols, but, God has other plans, and for some reason, God wants me to spend several hours in Terminal 3.