Security, security, security. Who doesn’t have a rant about customs/security/shampoo/$150 perfume (or some combination there of) these days? Well, I came across a new one today, but (not to ruin the ending) this one went better than most.
We’re heading back to L.A. after spending a couple nights in Arizona for my cousin, Arin’s, Bat Mizvah. I have a Canadian drivers license, which I’ve previously used at least three times in the last four months as my piece of identification when I get to security. Haven’t had a problem yet, so …