Since I wasn't assigned the bedroom, I wasn't too worried about snakes or other threats we often found in the homes of Arizona dopers, but I was worried about missing the hidden dope since the kitchen was filled with an abundance of containers, vessels, drawers, and cabinets. I went through several drawers finding nothing of interest, no paraphernalia or instrumentalities of distribution. But I then turned to the cabinet under the sink, always a target-rich area.
Bending down, I focused on several likely items: an empty coffee can, still empty; a container of Comet cleanser, filled with just cleanser; a PVC piece of pipe—only a bomb; a box of "SOS" pads, half filled with soap pads....wait a minute!
I was focused on finding dope...and I found a bomb. As I had only seen part of it in the clutter of the cabinet, it wasn't until I was holding it in my hands that the two end caps became obvious and for an odd moment my mind thought, "This might be it!" "It" being dope, because that was what we were searching for. But at the same time, part of my brain was sending the "big pucker time" signal to the lower parts of my anatomy.
This holding of two distinctly different thoughts creates an odd tension in our brain called cognitive dissonance, and I have interviewed many survivors over the years that have had this same conflict. This dissonance seems to tell us, "This isn't happening."
It is, however, happening and we need to act when these moments include a threat. This is why we are constantly getting psyched up so we don't have these reactionary lag times, but this was a totally novel and unique moment for my poor innocent brain. Our head bomb tech, Dave Audsley, was always setting booby traps for us in training and as I called for a tech to get there (now!) I thought how it wasn't training's fault, it was mine for being so focused on finding one thing and not being ready to find another even more terrifying thing.