Ok. So here's the story.
I was still in the Marines at the time, and like I mentioned earlier, part of my job was dealing with explosives. The day before I was to go on leave for Thanksgiving we had a day at the demo range. It was a fun day - who can say that a day blowing up shit for no reason isn't fun. So, as one might guess, we used the standard Grunt explosives. C4 and Det cord. I remember at one point we were standing around a table building something (probably a shape charge) and had some det cord left over. Well, like any good Marine, we wanted to investigate it some more, so we cut it open to see what was inside. For those that don't know, inside det cord (or more formally detonation cord) is nothing but explsoive powder. Either RDX or Petin - I can't quite remember. And like the smart Marines are played with it for a bit.
So, that sounds like no big deal right. Get a a little explosive powder on your hands - wash it off. Well...since I was going on leave the next day, when we got back to the barracks the first thing I wanted to do was pack. So I did...before showering. Needless to say some of the expolosives transfered from my hands to my clothes.
Did I mention that tt was right before the Thanksgiving right after 9/11. If you traveled around that time you should remember the intense checks you had to go through before you boarded a plane. They had (and I've still seen from time to time) these little wands with a piece of cloth on them that they rubbed all over you luggage and anything inside your luggage.
So, they proceeded to stick the cloth inside the machine that detects explosives, and uh...yeah...the machine started to flash red lights and blink and all sort of crap that basically labeled me as a terrorist.
The woman running the machine nearly had a heart attack and literally says to me "wait right there while I get my supervisor."
Seriously? Some dude test positive for a number of explosives and you tell him to wait there...Well, I did since I could completely explain myself, but seriously?!?!
I ended up talking with her supervisor and explained what the situation was and give him the number to the CO. He called and confirmed my story, but not before going through my entire suitcase, every shirt pocket, inside every sock, turning everything inside and out.
They ended up letting me board the plane but for about the next 7 or 8 years, everytime I went through security, I ended up in the "random" extra screening area....wonder why