For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been allowed to breeze through airport security. No literally bending over backward to futz with shoes, jackets and laptop computers. Or losing driver’s licenses — which actually happened to me once when I wasn’t paying attention.

Far from celebrity treatment, but I felt pretty special anyway.

All because of this printed on my boarding pass: “TSA PRECHK.”

I thought it might have had something to do with my frequent flyer credit card. Whatever. It was such a relief.

But the other day, that magic code was missing from my boarding pass. Back to the reality of being ordinary. What a comedown.

Has this happened to you?

I’m in the process of finding out what this is all about.

We know you have to do a job, TSA folks, but jeez. (‘Princess’, 2011.)