This weekend I went on my first exploration of Boston. Leaving Baltimore Friday morning turned out to be quite the fiasco. I was running just a few minutes late—not enough to miss my plane because I live only 15 minutes from the airport and always give myself plenty of time by leaving two hours ahead of flight departure when tackling air travel.
The problems started when I’d driven half the distance to the airport. That was when I realized that, out of habit, I’d locked the deadbolt on my inside garage door. However, this dutiful act would prevent my pet-sitter from getting in and feeding Mr. Martin. So I immediately exited the freeway and turned around. By the time I was back on the road to BWI, I still had just under 90 minutes before my flight was to leave. “I’ll still make it,” I thought, “ . . .barring any unforeseen obstacles.”
The first unforeseen obstacle was highway construction right around the airport. It seems like every road in Maryland is being re-paved at the same time. I missed my turn into the daily garage parking and had to make a u-turn to go back. “No big deal,” I thought, “It’s only an extra block out of the way.” I had already checked in online, so I had my boarding pass. With just one piece of luggage, there was no reason to stop by ticketing. I took the shuttle from the garage to the airport and breezed past ticketing with about 50 minutes to spare before takeoff.
The next unforeseen obstacle was the surprisingly long security line. Someone else in line informed me that there’d been a security breach earlier that day, in the form of “a bag full of guns,” that had caused the shutdown of two concourses. (Come to find out much later, it was one guy with one gun. Idiot.)
Thinking I’d be smart about the security check, I’d left my water bottle behind. Time was running out, so I hoped my artificial disc wouldn’t set off the metal detector. My sunglasses, however, did. No big deal; I successfully passed through on the second try. But then the TSA agent behind the X-ray monitor instructed another agent to search my bag. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “it’s my new eyebrow razor. I never should’ve brought that.” (Now who’s the idiot?)
Shockingly enough, it wasn’t the razor blade at all (which is equally as dangerous as a box cutter). It was my Dry Idea deodorant, my travel-sized Colgate toothpaste, my miniature bottle of hair serum, my anti-frizz gel, my teensy-weensy (1.5” long) sample tube of Yonka face cream, and the even smaller sample of Yonka lotion. One by one, these items came out. I felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realizing that these innocent items weren’t allowed in carry-on bags. I knew that beverages weren’t allowed, but it didn’t even occur to me that toiletries were considered potentially dangerous. I hadn’t flown since prior to the attempted London hijackings, so I wasn’t familiar with the latest rules. (Lesson learned. I will go back to my earlier post-9/11 habit of checking out the latest air travel restrictions before leaving for the airport.)
What else did I have in there? Oh yeah, my leave-in hair conditioner, my contact lens solution and eye drops (those were acceptable, no less), and my nose spray--to help prevent colds, you know. TSA was going to throw all of that away, unless I wanted to go back through the ticketing line, check the bag, and return to the security line. I looked at my watch – 30 minutes until departure.
On a whim, I decided to risk it. We threw all the stuff back inside my suitcase, including my TSA-approved luggage lock (no time for that nonsense!), and the TSA agent escorted me out of security. I ran back to ticketing (not far at all), and they let me check my bag immediately. (Thank you, nice lady at the AirTran counter.) I ran back to the security line, showed the agent my marked boarding pass indicating I’d already been through, and he let me in via a short cut. (Thank you, nice Security guy!) I was back in line at the same security check point behind just a few people.
I made it through this time without incident (fortunately, they still had my sunglasses behind the counter), and I was off to my gate. Luckily, I had 20 minutes to spare. I was thirsty and assumed that since I’d already been through security, it would be OK to get a drink. I ran from the boarding line to the nearest store, bought a diet soda, and went back to the gate where the airline agent let me through with my soda (she never even looked up at me as she scanned my boarding pass). Good deal.
Down the concourse and onto the plane. As I stepped on, I was just cracking open the Diet Coke when a flight attendant said, “You can’t bring that on board.” I said I was sorry, that I didn’t know I couldn’t bring a beverage purchased inside the secured area. I turned around to walk off the plane toward the jetway, and as I walked off, she grabbed the bottle from me. I was outside of the plane, expecting her to hand the bottle back to me so I could throw it away in the trash can right behind me. I said, “I just want a sip before I throw it away.” But she wouldn’t give me the bottle, telling me I am not allowed to drink from my cold factory-sealed soda bottle. You've got to be kidding me. What was she going to do, dispose of it on the plane??
I thought about how ridiculous it was that I couldn't drink from an unopened soda just before disposing of it and then boarding. What was I going to do, swallow a bomb in one sip? I knew this couldn’t possibly be policy, that this girl was just making it up as she went along. Maybe she secretly hoped to make headlines for saving this plane from certain catastrophe incurred by a thirsty woman armed with diet cola.
Just then the pilot (or co-pilot) appeared from the cockpit. I was still standing outside the door of the plane when the flight attendant asked the flight officer if I was allowed to drink from my soda bottle. “Of course she can!” he told her, turning to me with "Duh" on his face. I told him I’d bought the soda after clearing security and didn’t realize that I couldn’t take it on the plane. He smiled and told me, "It’s a stupid rule.” I took a sip, threw the bottle away behind me, and boarded the plane.
So, the moral of the story is: today the TSA will allow passengers to carry a dangerously sharp blade onto the plane, but a sealed plastic Coke bottle purchased on the concourse is out. (Five years from now you can probably reverse those restrictions again - who knows?)
I agree to give up some of the conveniences of my free life in order to live safely in this new scary world. I have no problem complying with the rules—(those that I can keep up with). But, my god, do we have to be so stupid about it?
Five years later we’re allowing sharp eyebrow razor blades on planes—(no different from the box cutters used in the 9/11 hijackings, except for the femininely pink handle)—but not a Coke just purchased 20 feet from the gate with a cap that is still sealed?? Airline security needs to be proactive, not reactive. I think that the thwarting the London bombings this summer was fantastic intelligence work. Safety officials proactively removed liquids from passenger carry-ons. Good work. But it doesn't explain why the restrictions on sharp instruments were lifted not long ago. Why take one step forward and then two steps backward?
Brilliant. I feel mu-u-u-u-u-u-ch safer.
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