It was my fault. I had told Mo that it’s fine to have something in your pockets, as long as it isn’t metal or electronic. Oh, was I wrong!
First, Mo was patted down for his pocketed contraband...
And then it was my turn. I was “hiding” a plastic R2D2 figure, one of my crutches for keeping Curly entertained during long lines.
“What is in your pocket?” the security officer demanded.
“R2D2,” I replied.
“What? Let me see it!” the German barked.
I handed over the tiny droid.
As he carefully studied the figurine, the stern man suddenly melted and then actually giggled. “Ah! R2D2!”