Random Thoughts At An Airport - Part 1

My husband drove me to the airport today. I suggested that he just dump me at the curb, but he wanted to come in with me and have something to eat or a coffee. I think he did it for two reasons. First, he's going to miss me (though he's already admitted that he's looking forward to having our king sized bed to himself). Second, he knows how much I hate flying, so he probably hoped that coming in with me would help me stay calm and manage the stress better. We checked my bag and had a light lunch in a restaurant next to a security check point. It was nice. After lunch, he went on his way, and I got in line for security screening.

The security screening process was a bit more thorough than when I last traveled in April. The security staff tested my shoes for ignitable chemicals, probably because of my custom orthotics. I also was the recipient of a random body pat down. The keyboard that I typed this on, an AlphaSmart 3000, had to be sent through the x-ray machine a second time, to verify that it did not contain an explosive device.

While in line for the screening, one of the security staff asked me if I had any gels, pastes, creams, or liquids in my carry ons. These things are currently permissible in small quantities. To make the screening process easier I made sure to put all that stuff in my checked bag. As I was leaving the checkpoint area I noticed a sign that said that lighters and matches were not allowed on the plane, even in checked baggage.

My stomach sank a little bit. I had packed a small jar candle and a book of matches in my checked bag. I don't know how closely they x-ray those bags. However, I really didn't want to give the TSA any reason to go poking around in my bags. I felt like I had to put my TENS unit in the checked bag, though it makes me nervous to let it out of possession when traveling since I rely on it so much and it would be expensive to replace. However, I doubt that the TSA would let me bring a device than can deliver a mild electric shock to a person onto a plane. C'est la vie. I'm curious to see if my bag has a "opened for inspection" tag on it when I go to claim it at the other end.

I was in line behind a well dressed largely built woman. She did almost everything correctly. Shoes on the conveyor belt. Laptop out of its bag. Liquids (etc.) in a right-sized ziploc bag, out where the bag could be inspected. Unfortunately, she must have missed the sign dictating that all jackets and blazers must be removed and put on the belt as well. One of the security team asked her to remove her blazer. She complied, albeit with an air of quiet unhappiness. Beneath her black blazer, the woman was wearing a white tank top. Without the blazer, her large chubby arms were exposed for all the world to ridicule. While I never reached this woman's proportions, I understood how she felt. When you are overweight, most people try to dress to take attention away from their sin of girth. Black has always been a highly occurring color in my wardrobe. For years, I would only wear shorts in public if the thermometer was over 90 degrees. And, most of my clothes were more than comfortably baggy. I think I thought that people wouldn't KNOW how fat I was if they couldn't really make out the true outlines of my form. These days, a lot of my clothes fit, if not snugly than merely comfortably. It's now rare for me to wear something a size or two larger than my true size.

10/15/2006