If you haven’t been through airport security since 9-11, you must not get out often. Actually, what I meant to say, is you really ought to. Save your money and book a flight to
When you go through security, you have to put all your liquids, don’t worry—not bodily liquids in a Ziploc bag. Apparently, these bad-boys can get crazy out of control if not contained in the Ziploc. And you must limit each liquid to 3 ounces. Now this is just for carry-ons. If you want to get all wild with the shampoo or whatever you can pack as many ounces as you like in your checked baggage.
I’m still trying to figure out the threat of too much lotion or hand-sanitizer. You hold the pilot down Ringo/Roy/??? (or whatever bad guy name you want to insert) while I squirt the pilot in the eye with some toothpaste.
Anyway shoes are apparently a big threat too. I guess some wise-guy ruined it for the rest of us and tried to put a bomb in his shoe. So, now you have to take off your shoes to go through security. Not a problem unless you can’t tie shoes very well or have really stinky feet (as did the nice looking lady in front of my husband). Actually if your feet do stink, it’s not a problem for you, just everyone around you. I’m glad somebody hasn’t tried to put a bomb in their briefs, or bra.
I should warn you, use caution if you go through security wearing an under-wire bra. Awkward. A few years ago I set off the alarm. Security pulled me aside and every time they ran that wand past my chest, it lit up like a cheap Christmas tree -- the wand, not my chest.
However, the last time I flew I was not subjected to this because I was strip searched with my clothes on. I was told to put my feet on 2 foot prints. Then sha-bam. Something flashed in front of me, then behind me just as I noticed to my left images of a naked robo-looking male and female. Yes, I could see anatomy although it was the color of robot. If you can’t imagine this color it is copperish, brownish, metalicish 3CPO-ish. It was then that I realized I had just been violated. WAIT! Don’t I have to sign something? Doesn’t somebody have to read me my Miranda Rights?? Nobody even said, “One, two, three.” At the very least I would have sucked in my stomach and tightened my glutes.
I am still reeling in shock, when the lady tells me to step down. Airport personnel are smiling like I just finished the Magic Tea Cup ride at
I’m not sure what to make of this. Do I call my congressman or clergyman?