No need to fake it

The security guard manning the metal detector at the entrance to the arena looks at my cane while I put my phone and keys in the little bin.

“You got a hip or a knee replacement?” he asks.

I mean, neither? but instead I say, “Yeah, I got all kinds of problems down here,” waving at my lower body with a sort of all-encompassing gesture.

He looks at me suspiciously, then finally waves me around the metal detector and up an access ramp.