I'm sitting in the Tucson airport, with an hour and a half before my flight. Apparently the two hour rule does not apply to this airport, since it took me approximately 3 minutes to get checked in and to the front of the security line. That is where all of the fun began.
I think I'm a good traveler. I don't wear hair accessories, or bulky jewelry, or big shoes and belts because I like confidently walking through the scanner without having to stop. I feel like the person manning the scanner is also appreciative of us travelers that make their job easier, because let's face it, unless you're the one that catches the one terrorist, that job pretty much sucks.
(On a side note, how cool would it be if you DID catch a terrorist?! Maybe you would get to go to the White House, and the President would be all "Get her whatever she wants! And get her some super cool sunglasses. You are all fired, so she will be my new security guard and I will entrust her with national security as well.")
(Seriously, that could TOTALLY happen!)
(Perhaps I should rethink my job as civilian, and begin my training as an airport scanner worker.)
Anywhoo. Today, I'm wearing a cotton t-shirt, cotton skirt, and flip-flops. As I'm going through the line, thinking about how I'm going to be the new line favorite, the beeper goes off and people from twenty feet away turn to see who the terrorist is setting off the alarm. I'm asked to remove myself from the line and I'm escorted a couple of feet away to a glass box. At this point, everyone is watching to see what will happen. So the scanner lady explains that I've been randomly chosen to participate in a pat down. (YAY FOR ME!) The problem here, is the skirt. It's apparently a requirement that they feel up your thighs and around your lady business to ensure you aren't wearing garters with bombs and grenades hidden inside. So rather than reaching up my skirt (which I appreciate...) I am asked to lunge forward into a position that looks like the Warrior Pose. While in position, she starts at my ankle and feels all the way up my entire leg. Then I get to swap and we do the other leg. This, my friends, is awkward.
It's unfortunate that no one was with me to snap a quick photo, because I can imagine that you would all have quite a good laugh if only you had seen me getting felt up while showing off my impressive yoga skills.
(Due to the girth of my thighs, from not doing said yoga enough, there would have definitely been some photo editing....)
Now that I have graduated back to non-terrorist, I'm about to slip into a blissful Dramamine induced coma and hope that there will be no more airport fun today.
Nashville, here I come!!!