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Shanghai has a lovely glass museum that I was lucky enough to visit when I was there in May. I somehow got it into my head that I should bring a little piece of this place home. So as I wandered into the gift shop, I found myself looking at pieces that wouldn't shatter into a zillion little shards on the way home.
I figured a heavy, dense ball of glass would be naturally robust. I didn't figure on it giving security guards kanipshen fits as their machines zeroed in on something the looked like Fat Man's enriched uranium core, wrapped carefully in the middle of my camera bag. It made for some entertaining discussions with security agents, some in languages I couldn't even begin to understand.
That was the bad news. The good news was they totally ignored the very fresh orange I accidentally forgot in my backpack. I checked it for invasive fruit flies before I chomped it for my first welcome-home breakfast.
Seriously, it's a wonder I'm not sitting in a concrete cell. Good times.