Caught by TSA

It’s 11:52 AM on Saturday and we’re on the way to the airport in Charlotte in heavy, speeding traffic. The tailgate of a truck ahead of us came loose and slid across the highway right into our path. Angela swerved to avoid it, but still ran over it with the tires on the right hand side of her Ford SUV. I hope her car was not damaged, although it made a frightful noise when we ran over it.

About half an hour has passed. We are about to exit I-285 right now to go to the airport, but the traffic is backed up for miles.

Two horrendous accidents on Interstate 85 brought traffic to a standstill. It took us almost an hour to travel the last 9 miles to the Charlotte airport.

One result of the traffic accidents was that few cars were getting through to the airport. So when we came to the TSA checkpoint, no one was in line. It was totally empty. We stepped right up to the front.

The trip through TSA is always interesting, and today was no exception. I had prepared myself as carefully as I could. I had already taken off my belt, put my passport away, emptied my pockets, prepared to remove my shoes and had done all those other things to eliminate any contraband items. I had been working for a week to pack things in a TSA kind of way. “Today,” I decided “I’m going to slip through TSA in 2 seconds flat. Today I will win this game.”

The agent called me through the metal detector and everything seemed to be fine. He smiled and said, “You’re good. Go ahead.”

“Yessss!” I thought. “I finally aced TSA.”

As I turned to leave, a red light went off and a bell sounded. “Sir, he said I am sorry. You have been chosen for a random check.”

“No problem,” I said. I had already safely deposited everything in the proper place in my 27-pocket Scott-e-Vest, hadn’t I? I was confident. I had prepared for this moment for weeks. However, upon entering the TSA pre-check line, in my rush I had quickly and thoughtlessly stashed my iPhone.

Somewhere.

He referred me to a female colleague who pleasantly recited her memorized instructions. “Sir, you have been chosen for a random check. I will need to swab your cell phone.”

“Certainly,” I said, smiling. I reached into my pocket. No cell phone. Another pocket. No results. A flood of unhappy words rushed through my mind as I struggled to remember where I had stashed the blessed iPhone. I opened the main compartment of my backpack. No phone. I started to sweat.

I started digging into my backpack for 30 seconds.

A minute.

A minute and a half.

Still digging.

I looked at the attendant. She kindly smiled, and I’m sure she could see that I was nervous. I was relieved that no one else was behind me. “Oh, yeah,” I thought. “The traffic.”

Then I remembered.

The pocket in the outside of my backpack. There was the phone.

I gave it to her. She swabbed it, put the towelette in a machine, and in just a few seconds a green light on the machine sent me on my way.

Ultimately this was an insignificant incident. It only delayed me a couple of minutes. But I have been through airline security screenings a couple of hundred times, at least. I know what they involve. I know how to prepare. And on this occasion, I was absolutely, totally ready. I had become a game for me, a contest I was well prepared to play. But I wanted to win. Nevertheless, at the last second I mindlessly stuck my phone where it doesn’t usually live, and I got caught. I These TSA agents were friendly and competent. They did their job well. But still, because of my carelessness, TSA rattled my cage.

Again.

So we are through with the hard part now, and we’re sitting here like pretty maids all in a row waiting to board the flight to Los Angeles. But just wait till next time.Les mer