Flying Home

Hoooo-boy. Have I got a story for ya'll.
You know when it involves the TSA that it's gonna be a good one. But don't expect anything kinky (shocker, right?) I did ALMOST get arrested, though!

Oh wait, firstly, watch a video on pies:



Yes. Give us more, PrettyBoy! I command it.

Anyway. My story (it's a long one):

So, I flew home on December 23rd, the day before Christmas. Perhaps not the best day to fly but I'm queen of getting shit done at the last minute. Also, I don't care for flying and ALWAYS have anxiety that I'm going to forget something important or miss my flight or something awful, even though it never happens.

Sooo. PrettyBoy and I go and jump in his car to go to the airport and PROMPTLY get it stuck in the snow. We try for awhile to dig and edge it out but we're stuck and my flight leaves within an hour. Luckily his dad shows up and angrily but hastily drives us to the airport. Being short on time our goodbye consists of "goodbye!" and a quick peck before I have to run to the TSA screening. Okay, maybe he ran back and smooched me once more but my point is, it was brief.

Now the trouble begins.
My things pass through the scanner with no issue. But for some reason I'm setting the alarms off. I insist my pockets are empty and am getting concerned when someone points out my necklace. I have a steel heart-shaped padlock that I wear around my neck at all times. One of the dungeon girls gave it to me and I never remove it anymore, even for showers. I DO, however, carry the key on my keychain for emergencies.

So, when we realize my necklace is the issue I tell them I need the keys to get it off. And for some reason they won't bring my keys back to me... and of course they can't let me go through to my stuff. So, they ask for a "female assist" to give me a pat-down instead. And then they leave me standing there in a corner for at least 15mins with my shit just piled up on the end table of the scanners across the room. Eventually I express that I'm worried about missing my flight and they decide since they can't find a chick to feel me up that they CAN give me my keys to unlock my necklace.

And that was my fatal mistake.
Alright, not fatal, clearly, but it made my shit pretty dire.

SO, I cheerfully unlock the necklace and pass through the scanner with no issue.
Except now they've had a clear look at my keychain.
Which means they've had a REALLY clear look at the pepperspray I've had on them for years...

Now, I'm used to LAX and such. And I've had incidents like this before and I've watched them even calmly take knives and bullets from people and tell them they'd be happy to let them pack these items into their checked luggage or they'll toss them out and everyone can be on their merry way. So when I got pulled aside I smiled and laughed, "Oh, I forgot all about that! No worries, you can take it, thanks!"

I was ready to take my things and go and lose my pepperspray when the TSA agent said, "Well, it's not that simple..."

"I don't know how it is in CALIFORNIA," he sneered condescendingly at me as he held my ID, "but here in Massachusetts you need a license to carry a concealed weapon like that and bringing it into an airport is a federal offense. So, now I'm going to call the state police and they may arrest you and they're going to search through all of your things and pat you down and maybe fine you, too."

Yep.
So, already late for my flight I begin to worry and apologize, shocked that this honest mistake is such a big deal. I ask if I can put my glasses back on and I'm told not to touch any of my things. So, there I stand, alone with my things piled on a table in front of me. My keys, tickets and ID are gone with the TSA agent who blatantly ignores me after that moment and I can't see. And like a genius I wore bluejeans that were missing the button, relying on my belt to keep them up. But now, my belt is directly in front of me but I cannot touch it so I stand holding up my oversized pants. Blind, missing my necklace that I never remove and clutching at my clothes 'insult to injury' abounds.

And I know now that there's no way I'm making it home for Christmas. I'm not religious, as you all know, but Xmas to me is a time to see all of my family, some of which I only see this once a year. And last year I was badly sick and missed out on seeing anyone. Plus I had no money and no phone, having left it (again like a genius) with PrettyBoy.

Sure now that I will not only miss my flight and never make it home for Christmas, but that I will most assuredly be stranded across the country with no way to contact help... IF I didn't end up in prison... I began to cry, overwhelmed and mad at myself for getting into this situation.

After being left to wallow alone for awhile I saw the police approaching me and I braced myself for the worst. Everyone in Massachusetts had warned me that "stateys" had a reputation for being mean and this overweight, older, clean-cut grey-haired man with his piercing blue eyes looked the part.

But the first words out of his mouth, in a heavy Boston accent were, "Why you cryin'? Quit cryin', yer fine." He conferred with the cold TSA agent about what was going on and then told me gently that I'd be getting something in the mail that I should respond to with my side of the story but that I could take my things and be on my way, and to have happy holidays. And to quit cryin'.

I was shocked. Here I'd been ready to be searched and treated like a criminal and now I was being let off without even being looked at funny. I mumbled alot of thank-yous and gathered my things shakily, still sniveling a bit and numb. The sympathetic police officer looked sharply at the TSA agent and said, "Hey, why don't you be nice to her? Quit scarin' the customers."

I made my flight.