I had to go to the county courthouse on this muggy smoggy, okay typical for San Bernardino County, September afternoon. Last time I had the joy of visiting the San Bernardino Courthouse I was probably nine or ten, tagging after my dad, who, at six four walks very fast, and would never wait up for a scrawny little girl with glasses, practically running in his wake. I remember the courthouse area was huge and confusing and I felt like I walked slashed ran after my father for miles in the smoggy hot California desert. If we were off the mountain and in the hot valley below running this kind of errand then I’m sure that meant my dad was pretty pissed off too. I remember sitting around in a plain eighties hallway for hours, nothing to do and bored starring at dirty tile floors and elevators full of people in the most modern eighties business attire; lots of shoulder pads.
Flash forward twenty something years and you find me driving through the ghetto of San Bernardino pissed off because the San Bernardino Superior Courts website told me to exit in a place that no longer exists on the frequently under construction 215 freeway. Briefly that morning I was excited to remember there is a court house in Big Bear on my own mountain. The thought occurred to me that, yea, I wouldn’t have to go down the hill to deal with this errand. Yet, alas, the Big Bear courthouse doesn’t handle pending divorces, that days task. What do they handle? Banjo robberies and squirrel muggings? I found the building I was searching for no problem! How easy was this! Then I walked in the door and saw the airport-ish security check point.
Let me be the first to say, I don’t mind at all, at airports or amusement parks or where ever being searched. I feel the government should do what they feel works to keep this country and state safe.
That being said, I think I knew deep in my heart that they would search my hand bag at the court house. I just forgot. I do watch the news occasionally so you think I would be aware what is going on around me. Yet, more then often, I am not.
So I take off mt belt, hand over my hand bag and get ready to make an ass of myself.
The first thing the security guard asks me is
“Ma’am why do you have a box cutter in your purse?”
Really it shouldn’t be a weird question in San Bernardino of all places. I mean this is a bad area and I’m a hundred pound single girl. Sure I lift weight’s every day, but I’m really not capable of defending myself against thugs. So yes, sometimes I carry a box cutter in my purse, as well as mace, just in case.
Oh yea, and I also work in a grocery store. That’s why I have a box cutter. I just really wish I had thought about a possible security search and left all my weapons in the car.
I explained that I hadn’t known there would be a security search because I’m a big retard who doesn’t watch the news enough and is forgetful. My car was not parked that close. I really didn’t want to walk all the way back to my car in 103 degree heat for a box cutter.
“Can I just throw it away? I asked.
“No, you can either hide it outside or we can confiscate it” The nice security lady told me. Hide it outside? Really? What if a kid finds it! I’m not hiding a box cutter outside for children to play with! I hand over my weapon.
“Okay, but you may want to disinfect your hands, that box cutter fell in the toilet recently” I warned as I handed it over. (This happens a lot when you leave items in the back pocket of your jeans)
I guess I deserved the dirty look awarded me at that point.
But hold on, Miss Security Guard was not through with me yet.
“Ma’am, what is that bottle of liquid in your purse?” I was asked.
I truthfully responded,
” I have no idea. Is it hand sanitizer? “
” I don’t know what it is, ma’am. Its your purse. Please step over to my assistant.”
At this point I thought I had f’ed up big time and was about to get a cavity search, and all I wanted to do was file some paper work!
What was the huge and possibly explosive bottle of liquid in my purse? A huge bottle of hot sauce. I carry it every where with me! I forgot. Okay, actually both security guards cracked up when they realized it was Franks Red Hot Sauce and not gasoline.
Times like this, I really feel like that mountain hick that doesn’t get out much.
If like me, you carry hot sauce with you where ever you go, you may enjoy the following recipe.
Hot Goat Cheese Corn Dip
This dip is some kind of ridicules good, I can eat the whole pan. You are going to be mad at me if you make it; very mad. Serve this great dip with tortilla chips.
1 cup goat cheese
4 ears corn, grilled, scraped off cob
4 tab to 1/2 bottle your fav hot sauce (I used Trader Joe’s)
2 cups sour cream or Greek yogurt
1 1/2 cups sharp white cheddar
2 bell peppers, roasted, chopped
4 green onions, chopped
Cook the onions in the coconut oil. Add the corn and bell peppers. Turn off the heat, add the sour cream, hot sauce, goat cheese, half the cheese and stir. Put in a baking dish, put the rest of the cheese on top. Bake at 375 for 20 minutes.