How to Have Fun with Airport Security by Petrice Gaskin
*I arrive three hours early for my 6 a.m. flight to St. Louis. That’s right, I woke up—or rather, did not go to sleep—and paid forty dollars for a cab ride in order to arrive at the airport by 3 a.m. After being checked in, I make my trek to the security checkpoint. Ever since September 11th, I have grown to dread this part of my trip. I am always one of the people randomly selected for closer inspection.
But airport security disappointed me today. I didn’t get a full frisk. Usually, I’m corralled into one of the corners and patted down while some overly zealous man sniffs my boots, but today, nothing. I had planned my own form of amusement for the security guards. Men are inordinately squeamish about anything pertaining to menstruation so I had placed maxi pads strategically in my backpack and purse. I was actually looking forward to the search, so I could see the man’s jaw slightly tremble as his hand is forced to brush past or even (gasp) touch a dreaded maxi pad. I would stand smirking gleefully the entire time.
I know it’s wrong to want to torture the security guards for merely doing their jobs, but some part of me (the inordinately self-centered portion) can’t help but feel that the “War on Terror” is being waged on me. I can’t wait to get to Good Vibrations so on my next trip, I can artfully arrange dildos, butt plugs, and other toys around my backpack.
I can envision it now, the balding, slightly pudgy guard will casually flip my backpack open, as he has done countless times that day and suddenly find himself confronted with a smorgasbord of sex toys and books detailing positions that he probably can’t even pronounce. All the color will drain from his face and he will look up at me incredulously. My lips will part in a slight smile as I nod reassuringly. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” I say softly, nudging the bag closer to him.
The problem with that plan is those items might not elicit embarrassment, but excitement from the security guards, and the last thing I need is an excited security guard.
Alternatively, instead of filling my bag with a bevy of shocking items, I could pack a normal bag and slip one tawdry item in and allow the guard to stumble across it halfway through his search. After passing over my CD holder and notebook, he would suddenly find the latest issue of Playgirl or Hustler, or perhaps a slinky red Victoria’s Secret thong, a huge box of dental dams, a pocketsize whip, or nipple clamps. The possibilities and possible reactions are endless.
But why? Why taunt the airport security guards? I understand the logic that in a post-9-11 world, everyone must be held suspect and slightly criminalized (more than slightly if you look even remotely Middle Eastern). But I still bristle at the prospect. Some part of me refuses to swallow the rationale that this is for my own good.
I don’t trust the government. I never have, pre or post 9-11. I feel that in so many ways the Bush administration used September 11th as a blank check to begin stripping away civil liberties in the name of security. They claim they need access to my library record, the ability to tap my phones, the opportunity to read my sundry e-mails, and sift through my fine washables in my suitcase, all to protect me.
I don’t feel more secure as I read about American citizens who were declared “enemy combatants” and then denied access to counsel or their families for as long as the government wishes. Knowing that the federal government is able to spy on Islamic religious groups, interrogate Middle Eastern and South Asian immigrants or hold them indefinitely certainly doesn’t make me feel more secure. What I do feel is a fear of my own government and deep sense of disappointment that Congress and the Bush Administration would so thoughtlessly pass such reactionary measures. The Bush administration won’t stop terrorism by acting like terrorists; however, I’m fairly certain I can only expect to see more of the same in the next four years, especially since Bush feels the election handed him a “mandate.”
Security is a chimera. Our politicians and legislators can pass measure upon measure, but it won’t make this country more secure. True security would require actions that our government doesn’t appear ready to take at this time, such as actually supporting the United Nations, or pursuing measures that place people before money, like forging fair trade agreements to help underdeveloped countries exit the mire of poverty that breeds resentment and “terror.”
So, yes, I understand that my actions are petty, egotistical, and largely ineffectual, but so is most of the “War on Terror.” Besides, this is my own small rebellion, and even small rebellions are important. Now, excuse me. I’ve got to go buy a vibrator.*
