Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Traveling South Saga (part 2)

Part 1

Waiting to go through security, I hoped and prayed. The waiting area was littered with signs on either side of me, menacing me: Please have your boarding pass and your ID ready.//Snow globes will not be allowed through security.//Please place all liquids containers in one quart sized clear plastic bag with a zip top.//Carry on baggage is limited to one piece of luggage 45in tall, and one personal item. Personal items are a purse, small backpack, or laptop bag.

I looked down nervously at my backpack. Is my bag really small? Dear God, Please don’t let me have to check anything. Then I remembered I’d have to take my shoes off. I looked down at my toes, open in my sandals and decided I did not want my feet to touch the cold floor. I reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of socks and put them on in preparation for going through security.

I walked through the scanner, and it beeped. The TSA agent looked at me and remarked, “Are you carrying a knife?” I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Umm, no. I have bobby pins in my hair?” I said pointing to my hair wrapped up in a scarf.

“Go back, and come through again.” I did. Beep. Beep. Beep. “FEMALE ASSIST!” he yelled. He guided me into a little transparent room directly behind him. His body blocked the entrance on one end, and a door was on the other side. I watched through the plexi-glass wall as my belongings appeared on the other side of the baggage scanner, and quickly became a nuisance to other people trying to put on their shoes and collect their bags.
Standing there I wondered if it was bad if I just sat down. I was tired. I was upset. And being pulled over by security was pissing me off. Just as I was weighing the pros and cons, a woman opened the door.

“Is this your stuff?” She said grabbing up the nuisance-bags all the other passengers had to work around.  She took me over to a side area and placed my bags on a table. “Okay,I’mgoingtohavetopatyoudown.I’mgoingtoneedyoutostandwithyourarmsupandlegsapart.WhenIreachsensitiveareasIwillusethebackofmyhand.Thiscanbedoneinprivate.” She recited it in one breath.

I rolled my eyes and spread my legs. Whatever. She then proceeded to pat down the entire back and front of my body. Highlights included: looking down my pants on the front and back sides. Feeling around the perimeter of my breasts, under-boob included.  And I can’t forget the purposeful grazing of my crotch as she patted the upper parts of my legs. There was nothing sexual about it. I knew she was only doing her job. But I felt violated.

She went over to a little scanner and did something with the plastic gloves she was wearing before she looked back in my direction. “You can go.”

I got myself together as quickly as possible and looked for my gate. The waiting area was empty, save for one man sitting in the corner asleep. I was a little less than 3 hours early for the flight.

I sat down and tried not to cry. I tried to think what could possibly make me feel better at this point. I prayed that I got on this flight, because if I had to go home and come back and go through security again tomorrow, I just might opt out of the trip all together. God, just please help me feel better.

I was totally lost in the thoughts in my head when I heard some children singing. I turned around to see twin little girls dragging rolling backpacks, and a husky little boy running behind them. I’d know those kids anywhere.

No comments:


Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin