August 28, 2006
The TSA is A-OK
I made sure to leave everything resembling a liquid at home before a recent and all to brief trip out of town. While packing I stuck to the strict rule of leaving behind anything with any potential to wiggle. With a one-day trip and little extra time on the itinerary, there wasn’t room for checking luggage or even a tiny bit of wiggle.
I left my house, stopping to say high to my neighbors who were still up chatting in the hallway following their party the night before. It was a shade after five and my only problem was an all to slow to arrive train to get me to the airport. By the time I made it I had just 45 minutes before my flight and the massive O’Hare airport to navigate. After snagging my boarding pass from the handy computer, I made my way to security.
The TSA lady checked my ticket and my ID and sent me on to the line of people removing their shoes. No liquids, no problem, and I’m through the metal detector, trying to learn to tie my shoes while running through a crowded airport. Of course I have to make my way through the neon serenity of the tunnel to C concourse and my flight has already begun boarding. While paused on the up escalator I glanced down at my boarding pass. I held in my hand a ticket for a flight from San Francisco to Portland; my connecting flight.
Somehow I’d made it through security with a ticket for a flight from an airport on the other side of the country. Now I’ve got a scant few minutes to make my flight and my boarding pass isn’t good in this time zone. I figure with all the tight security these days, at best I’m gonna be escorted back out to get a new ticket. But since I’m at the gate I figure I’ll try to make my flight. I tell the lady at the counter my story, show her the ticket I have and she prints me a new boarding pass for my flight. I walked onto that plane without showing my ID again, feeling very confident in the secure nature of our airports.
The trip home was just as enlightening. After a late night of post wedding fun, I napped for an hour before racing from the hotel and banging on the side of a cab to wake the driver and make my way off to the airport with an hour before my scheduled 6 a.m. flight home. I’m certain I looked and smelled spectacular having slept in my clothes and not showered or even brushed my teeth after the wedding. But the cabbie woke quickly and I made it to the airport with as much time as I’d had on my way out. Once again security was no trouble and I made it to the gate before we even started boarding.
With no open bench space I settled down at the foot of a little table to read about sharks and waited for them to start loading up the plane so I could sleep for real. The first class gets to enter the plane and then, just before boarding group one got to go, an airline employee gets on the mic and exclaims, “Hey everyone, the TSA is here and they’re going to be doing some random secondary bag checks,” in a voice way to chipper for the occasion or time of day.
I stood up from underneath the edge of the TSA search table knowing my bags were going to be checked again for sure. And before I could make my way toward the pre-line gaggle the TSA guy with the really fine cop mustache taps my shoulder and points me right back to the table. I open my first bag and he pokes at my dirty clothes a moment, never really checking if there’s anything inside or underneath them before moving on to my next bag. I unsnap the cover of that one and he checks out my books and CDs in the main pouch, the completely ignored zippered front pouch clearly in view the entire time.
Neither bag was really all that searched, but instead of being sent back to wait until my boarding group was allowed on, I was waved right through, the first person to populate the back of the plane. I can’t say I felt safe, but I sure felt relieved to be somewhere I could sleep for a bit.
I’ll have you know I flew from ORD to PDX, PDX to ATL, ATL to BCN (Barcelona), BCN to Malaga: Malaga back to BCN, BCN to ATL, ATL to ORD - on all of which I carried Purell hand gel, Lotion and Eye Drops. All of them went thru security checks unnoticed in my carry-on. The only serious search was leaving Spain for the US. In PDX, the lady at the X ray was actually looking fully in another direction as my bag passed thru. Do I feel safe? Sure, as safe as ever. B/c if some asshole wants to cause trouble, he’ll find a way.