Heightened airport security is old, old, old news, but this weekend (flying back from Mexico) reminded me of a few things.
After 9/11, my travel schedule continued unabated, which put me in the unpleasant situation of frequent searches. You know the kind – off with the shoes, the belt, the hairclip, the earings, anything that might remotely be made of any kind of metal. Several times, I was pulled aside for the special screening where you get to bypass the metal detector in favor of the wand.
And once, the button on my jeans set off the alarm. Not only did I have to unbutton my pants for a look, but the screener lady realized that my underwire (!) was setting off the detector, too. So, she commenced with the MANUAL inspection of my bra. Yes – humiliation in public. Nice memories.
Which brings me to survival tactics. After having my luggage regularly searched with a fine-tooth comb and submitting to far too many personal inspections, I decided to turn the table. I began to pack my most personal items on the top of the clothes in my suitcase. Ladies, think feminie hygiene products, whether you actually need them or not.
Nothing abbreviates the invasion of your privacy like an explosion of products flying into the face of the screener and across the airport floor. Of course, because you’re forbidden to touch your luggage or shoes, the crazy screener people have to chase it all down and repack it.
Ah, sweet revenge!
(Wish I had remembered to do this in Cabo.)