In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

She whacked the dust from the bag, always packed and ready
for a quick exit. She grabbed her day pack from the counter, checked
the through the pockets, throwing out the local stuff, old metrocards,
concert flyers, stubs, cap-less pens, last winter's waxy Chap Stick, a
couple of Irish pennies, a token. A token? The passport, her wallet with
a wad of emergency fifties and her bank card were in there, and her
Palm Pilot was in its cradle by the computer, charging.
"Benissimo, put it all on the table, I tek a look."
"You customs?"
"New world. Now, less see what you gut, all of it."
She poured out the packed bag's contents: clothes, toiletry bag,
survival kit, stack of white Fruit of the Loom panties, couple Levis, T
shirts in various shades of green, two no-logo sweatshirts, one dingy
white boy's oxford shirt from the Salvation Army and half a dozen
socks of varying thicknesses. From toiletries essentials: microlight,
Ziploc baggies, first aid pack with snakebite kit, out of date Bacitracin,
Gerber thirteen function multitool, rolled Ace bandage with paper clip
for attaching, splinter tweezers, Tampax, pack of rubbers, scissors, and
nail clipper with bent rusty nail file/mini screwdriver. All got chucked
out except the Tampax, tweezers, multitool, clipper and scissors—and
why not, the Ace and paper clip for cobblestone sprains. No, no no.
Alessandro's hand shot out from behind her and scooped up the nail
clipper, scissors, tweezers, paper clip and multitool, threw them in the
trash pile. He had been standing right behind her the entire time, she
realized with utter embarrassment.
"These things will be confiscated permanently. Bye, bye, and
you will be detained and interrogated. We are in a hurry. Remember,
new world, new rules."
She'd forgotten about the post 9/11 paranoia, living in a
permanent state of it herself. He placed the guilty items neatly side by
side. Except the micro-light she threw the rest into a trash pile, that he
eyed with a smirk.
"Okay, I get it, nothing pointy and metal, but jeez, it's not like
I'm gonna hold up a plane with a paper clip!"
"OK, but you know bureaucrats are more imaginative than
terrorists. They must stay busy, no?"
She picked up the PDA. "Uh 'right, what about the tech?"
"I dunno, I am analog man. I have one of those, Sony." He
shook his head and turned away.
"Sheesh." She stuffed it in the day pack with the travel
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