So, at the last-minute I decided to not go with the high heels, but instead I wore my fierce Fergie flates. That turned out to be a really smart idea as my gate was all the way on the opposite end from where I checked in my luggage.
I did manage to only have one bag with me that was filled with a considerable amount of knitting. The Yarn Harlot’s past incident at the airport which resulted in not having not enough knitting for the journey has made me realize that it is better to have too much to knit, then not enough.
As far as my experiment to see if I would be treated differently based on the way I dressed, well, that sort of fell to the waste side and I’ll explain why.
Smelling good and looking good, I approached the entrance to the security screening. At the last-minute a woman dodged in front of me and proceeded through the never-ending maze of line dividers. I always feel like a cow or sheep being herded to the security checkpoint.
While standing in line for my turn to have my ticket and ID checked, the rushy woman in front of me had liquid trickling down from between her legs. I naturally jumped back as I am not fond of Roman showers. Well, the liquid wasn’t yellow, so I relaxed a bit in knowing I wasn’t standing behind someone who just peed themselves giddy over the idea of flying. Since there was no sudden shouts of furry or screams for a doctor in the house I also figured she had not broken water. It was the glint of plastic that I saw being pushed into her purse in front of her that made me realize she had a bottle of water that must have spilled out as she took what I hoped were the last few gulps in there.
Her purse, shoes and chunky charm necklace took three whole bins as I managed all my items into two. With it being a slower time in the evening, we were all subjected to the full body x-ray machine. This would be my first time going through the machine and I was a little nervous about the whole thing. The whole debate about the use of the body scanners had left me with the usual thoughts of my brain being zapped into jelly from the rays of the machine and the fact that I would most likely now die from cancer due to this experience. But I didn’t mind getting the x-ray, it was the thought of what they might find that scared me. What if the doctors had left a pair of scissors in me from my liver transplant? What if that nickel I swallowed when I was six was still floating around in there? What if there is some strange carving on my ribs that said, ‘Kilroy Was Here’.
Well, my thoughts on internal findings was interrupted by the lady in front of me as she tried to run pass the security screening. The security guards politely escorted her back to the body scanner where it took some time to get her to understand that her hands had to be above her head for the machine to get a good scan. After the scan she tried to rush through to her belongings, causing all personnel to freeze with tazers at the ready watching to see what she was going to do next.
With nothing more than an almost near miss of her head meeting the wax floors, everyone relaxed and it was my turn to enter the scan. I have to say that the whole body scanner thing is highly over-rated. Hands above the head, feet should-width apart, (or just stand on the little squares already marked on the floor). Ten seconds of standing there and then you’re free to go. That’s it! That’s what everyone’s been fussing about! Debates, protest and arguments have erupted or ten seconds of nothing?! I didn’t even get a cool tingling sensation in my bones from it. Like having sex for the first time- the excitement of doing it was way more fun then actually doing it.
Now free to gather my belongings, I had to wait as crazy lady’s bag was taking up a lot of time being scanned. Her purse was removed and the security guy raised it up asking who it belonged to. No one responded. Crazy lady was too busy fussing with her chunky necklace to pay attention. So, me, being the good Samaritan that I am ratted her out.
The security guy got crazy lady’s attention and informed her that water bottles were not allowed and that he would have to remove the water from her bag. He pulled the bottle out and as crazy lady tried to reach for it, he triumphantly dropped it in the trash.
(That smirk that appeared on the security guard’s face after dropping the bottle in the trash confirmed my theory that airport security gets a little cheap thrill every time they get to find and throw away some else’s belongings. It’s a sick sort of satisfaction. But when you are in a position that is hated almost as much as the IRS, I can see how the throw away action can be a turn on).
Crazy lady’s purse had to be re-scanned. I got my belongings and made my way to my gate. Walking away from security, I said a little prayer, asking God to please not let that lady be on my flight.
The rest of my stay at the airport consisted of a lot of knitting and a small flight delay. I watched as the entire crew from our plane swapped with a crew from another plane. It was like watching the changing of the guards- only in high speed. Ever wanted to know what sound an airline crew makes when running from gate 19 to gate 9? Woosh!
When it was finally time to board, we hit a gridlock at the entrance as people were trying to squeeze into seats and get comfy in close spaces. Seeing what was going on a stewardess grabbed the intercom and stated, “Ladies and gentlemen, this flight is only half full. That means you do not have to sit next to each other. So please spread out!”
Finding a break in the crowd, I made my way to the back of the plane. I love sitting in the back of the plane. Less noise and I usually have empty seats neck to me as no one wants to sit near the restrooms.
Snuggled in my seat, I took out my iPod and knitting and zoned out for the remainder of the trip.
My new flight dress code may not have gotten me any special treatment, but I did get an interesting show at the airport. I may need to dress up for flights more often.