Secret Agent

The woman in a blue suit looked me (and my pillow) over critically. "I am secret agent for Northwest Airlines," she said.

"A secret agent?"

"Yes."

She proceeded to interrogate me (not very secretly) about my travel plans. "Why do you fly so many airlines?" she asked, at one point. "It is more expensive."

I whispered, "Actually, because it's cheaper."

Before she released me, I had to show her my Scholar's Cup ID Badge and a business card. "You're the president of organization?" She seemed incredulous.

"Yes, president with a pillow," I said.

Later, at immigration, I was asked, "Are you soldier?"

The pillow seems less effective than it used to be as a way of making me look innocent.