Bombs away

Recently, I went away for the weekend to visit friends. (By myself! Without my children! I know!) Being aware of the limitations on liquids being carried onto the plane, I decided to check my bag containing my liquid essentials (shampoo, hairspray) and carry a small bag with me on the plane containing my valuables ($30 earrings, $15 necklace) and whatever else I needed for the ride on the plane (tranquilizers, Holy Bible). However, as I was finishing up with packing, I discovered these zippered pockets on my carry-on that I never noticed before. So, I decided I could put my hairspray, shampoo, and other potentially explosive devices in one of these (handy-dandy!) pockets. I mean, why stuff them into my overnight bag when I have room in my carry-on, right?

This is so typical of me, to lose track of the entire point of what I'm doing.

So, of course, as I go through security, all of the bells and whistles went off as my Very Dangerous Bag went through the x-ray machine. The security people were very nice about it, though, and let me go back to the check-in area and ask that the Very Dangerous Items be placed in the bag that I had checked. I then had to re-remove my shoes, re-walk through the metal detector, and re-run all of my items through the x-ray machine, because, of course, there was a strong chance I might've picked up a firearm or two during my brief absence. But hey, I wasn't about to complain. I'm all about letting security check and double-check everything at the airport. My main objective is to get to my destination without blowing up into a bajillion pieces en route, so whatever they need to do to protect my safety is fine by me.

On the way home, however, security pulled out the big guns. I had to step into this metal detector that blew spurts of air up and down your body. (I don't know exactly what it was for, but I was quite sweaty at the time so it was rather refreshing.) And then? My bag was once again confiscated when more Dangerous Items were discovered! This time, I was asked to step aside while a very stern-looking woman pulled on some plastic gloves and commenced her search for the hidden explosives. When the woman couldn’t find the source of danger, she began pulling things out of my makeup bag. I had a small bottle of perfume in there, but in my own defense, it was almost empty so I didn't think it would be a problem. Apparently, it was. She asked me if I was aware that liquids need to be put in a “4x4 bag,” and I said I was not. ("What's a '4x4 bag'?" I wondered. But I was too intimidated to ask.) She looked at me with disgust, put the perfume aside, and continued poking around, asking me all kinds of questions about my cosmetics.

Her: "Is this a powder or a liquid?" waving a tube of roll-on eyeshadow.
Me: "Powder."
Her: "Powder?"
Me: "Powder."
Her: "..."
Me: "It's not liquid."
Her: "Are you sure?"
Me, trying to sound reassuring: "Yes, very sure."

More poking around.

Her: "Do you have mascara in here?"
Me: "I think so..."
Her: "Because that's a liquid, you know."
Me, doing my best impression of being agreeable: "Um...er...oh."

She continues poking around, searching for the mascara bomb. She is determined, but cannot find it.

Her, brandishing a slim tube of concealer, so old that the brand name has been completely rubbed off over the years: "What is this?"
Me: "Concealer."
Her: "Powder or liquid?"
Me: "Liquid...I guess. But it’s probably almost completely dried up."
Her, flabbergasted: "Don't you know that carry-on liquids are supposed to go into a 4x4 bag?"
Me: "Um...like I said, I had no idea. This is the same stuff I brought on the plane on the way here, so I didn't think it would be a problem."
Her, thoroughly disgusted with the security at the Other Airport: "Hmph. Come with me. I'll see if I can find one of those bags around here."

I followed her, panicking. What if she can't find the 4x4 bag? Will she confiscate the half-ounce of perfume and the dried-up concealer? The woman walked around, opening drawers, searching for this special bag that people are supposed to put their Dangerous Liquids in. I expected to see this, oh, I don't know, heavy-duty bag of some sort. Maybe something made of bullet-proof material. With chains. And a padlock. Instead she pulls out a GENERIC PLASTIC SANDWICH BAG WITH A ZIP TOP and says, "You’re in luck. I found one." Um, yeah. Because those things are tough to find. She proceeds to place my medium-beige concealer grenade and my Ralph Lauren Romance nuclear warhead into the flimsy bag, DOESN'T EVEN CLOSE IT, hands it to me, and says, "You're all set." I smile and say, "You're shitting me, right?"

Okay, I actually smiled, said thank you, and went on my merry way. But come on. Seriously? What exactly was that flimsy plastic bag going to do to protect me and my fellow passengers? ("Everyone, remain calm! The slightly moist items have been safely placed in an open plastic bag! Please step out of the fallout shelter, return to your seats, and prepare for takeoff!")

When I got home, I found my mascara at the bottom of my carry-on. Apparently it must've fallen out of my makeup bag. So, basically, I could've had an actual bomb at the bottom of my bag and security would've missed it. But one made out of one-sixteenth of an ounce of crusty concealer? They had that covered.

I recently read a story in the newspaper about how a gun made it through airport security somewhere. Shocking. Too bad that person hadn’t tried to sneak dried-up makeup and a teaspoon of perfume past the security people, because they definitely would've caught that.