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So I am on my flight from Orlando to Providence and because the aircraft has wifi I am able to write and upload this….yay! In light of this excitement I will tell you about my tiff with some TSA agents. Let me first start by telling you that I have never had a bad experience with the TSA or any security agent for that matter. This morning was shaping up to be like any other flight I have taken in the past (with the exception that I had successfully only packed a carry-on bag). I was ushered into the security line like the rest of the cattle, placed my sneakers and sweatshirt into the plastic bins, and hoisted my two carry-on bags up to the metal table. I stood patiently in line to go through the cancer machine x-ray back-scatter machine. I quickly remembered that my Cape Cod bracelet, if not unscrewed, will set the metal detector off.

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I undid the clasp but upon fumbling with my armful of bracelets, the nearby TSA agent smugly informed me that I would set them off. I kindly smiled at her and told her, to the contrary, that I had gone through many times and that by simply unscrewing that one bracelet, I would not set them off. She gave me an unconvinced sneer. She said it didn’t matter anyway as I was going through the back-scatter machine.

I stepped up inside the machine, placing my feet on the foot indicators, and held my hands above my head. I hope whoever sees these images got a good show….pervert. Anyway, I went to step out on the other side but another TSA agent blocked my path.

“Sorry,” she said. “The machine needs to be re-calibrated. You’ll have to go through the metal detector ma’am.”

That’s all fine and dandy, except that smug bitch from earlier kept looking at me and then down at my bracelet laden wrist. I stepped up to take the walk of shame through the metal detector and it beeped. I became instantly disheartened. Why had my bracelets made the detector go off? They never have before! I swear I’m not crazy! I quickly said that they never set the machine off before trying to redeem myself. I felt that my blatant lie to the agent earlier could land me in airport jail, awaiting a frisking of sorts. That didn’t happen. I stepped back through the machine as the TSA agents guided me back to the back-scatter machine, which had apparently got itself working again, and redid my best freeze-with-your-hands-up pose.

Meanwhile, all my stuff had been taken off the conveyor belt for me and was stashed in a crumpled pile amongst other people’s possessions. How insecure? Thieves could have made off with my bag containing my wallet, camera, and other valuables. I was instantly in a bad mood. I grabbed my things after checking that everything was indeed there. I just wanted to get to my gate and stew about the incident. I didn’t even sit down to re-tie my shoelace that had come undone. I had come undone. TS-Assholes…

Sitting at the gate was uneventful. I read some of my book. (I am currently reading The Clan of The Cave Bear series by Jean M. Auel, and they are fabulous.)

Once on the plane, I quickly noticed that it was not going to be a full flight, not by a long shot. I secured an entire row to myself! Score! Finally, this excursion is proving itself to be more positive than I had anticipated (after icy stares from TSA bitch). I twisted in my seat after the majority of the people had boarded. Plenty of open seats in the back. Entire rows even. Two gentlemen were the last to board. Guess where they sat? No, no, not in my row thank God. I would have moved to an open row if that were to happen. No, they sat right behind me though. They proceeded to bump and hit my seat back. I forgave the faults because I know that airplane aisles are not the easiest to maneuver in and subsequently hoist 30+ lbs of luggage overhead. But after we were airborne, the tapping continued. I turned around and smiled at the gentleman directly behind me and said, as sweetly as possible, “Would you please stop tapping my seat? I can feel every little nudge.” The older of the gentlemen, the one directly behind me, smiled and said that he would if he were the one tapping. He then childishly pointed to the man he came on the plane with. That man then smiled.

I turned quickly back in my seat, mortified. The tapping did stop but every time either one of them gets up now, they death grip the side of my headrest to help them get up out of their seats. Just now, like 5 minutes ago, one grabbed a huge clump of my hair in the process. I said ouch and tapped my finger on his hand but to no avail. He looked down at me as he shuffled to the lavatory with nary a sorry or acknowledgement of wrong-doing.

Bastard. I hope they lose your luggage.

Anyway, that’s enough of this post. I am going to go back to my book and Lorna Doone shortbread cookies. The rest of this trip is going to be fantastic. I’ll be with my family!

~Tarah

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