Iron Age

I got stuck behind group of middle-aged American tourists at the airport yesterday. We were all queueing for security and although there always tends to be a bit of a wait, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM set off the metal detector. Generally patient, I was slowely but steadily getting annoyed at the backlog. After all, how hard is it to remove change and keys from your pockets? Really?

But then I noticed that all of them were holding up a little plastic card whilst advancing down the queue. Always the curious one, I stretched my head a little to read what was on the card of the woman in front of me. I had to surpress a little snort when I finally deciphered:

"This person has a prostetic hip"