Posted by: Jeremiah Graves | April 12, 2009

Encounters with Airport Security

airport004So there I was wandering into the airport in good ole Boston to hop a flight to the Midwest when I was “randomly selected” for additional screening.

Now let’s be honest here…there is no “random selection” when it comes to airport screenings. They only pull you aside if you have a name that could belong to a terrorist or if you’re incredibly bubbly and happy at an inappropriate hour.

Well, Faithful Readers, I fit both criteria.

I think you’ve all spent time thinking to yourselves that “Jeremiah Graves” sounds an awful lot like the name of someone you’d expect to bomb your home, school, workplace or favorite Chili‘s. With a last name like “Graves” there really isn’t any questioning it. Throw in “Jeremiah” for a first name and all hell is breaking loose. Last time I checked Jeremiah was a bullfrog and bullfrogs tend to croak and croak is slang for die!!

Jeremiah Graves = Death, Terrorist-Style

So in addition to my Jihad-inducing name, there is my obviously questionable early-morning demeanor. Now I’m sure that most people hopping the first flight out of Boston act in the usual Bostonian way…pissy, unruly and seemingly constipated at all times.

Not me. No, no…I am a pro at dealing with little to no sleep and I was jacked on two Spike energy drinks and some No Doze. So I was rocking my Iowanness and smiling and wishing everyone a good morning and safe travels, etc…

Clearly this was a red flag to the fine folks at airport security.

As such, they pulled me and my belongings aside. I was commanded to sit silently and watch as Joe Security Guy tossed all of my tightly packed items asunder.

Joe Security Guy: “Do you have any weapons in this bag?!”
Osama Graves: “Just my razor for shaving…is that even a weapon?!”
Joe Security Guy: “In the wrong hands, anything can be a weapon.”
Osama Graves: “Riiiiiiiiiight, well that’s all I got.”

So JSG continued throwing my items to as well as fro and eventually got down to my undies and socks. He was curious as to why I had socks with skulls on them.

What I Said: “They’re comfy and were on sale at Old Navy.”

What He Heard: “Because these skulls represent all of the Americans I am hoping to kill on this flight with my dull Mach 3 razor blades!!!”

After swabbing my bag for anthrax, LSD and the bubonic plague and finding nothing he finally told me to stand with my arms and legs spread because it was time to check “my person” for weapons.

At this point I’ve got a solid audience of folks who have passed through security in one simple swoop thanks to their patriotic-sounding surnames like Jimmy McBaldEagle and Jessica StarSpangledBannerington.

They’re all just sitting back and watching the tall, goony dude get passed over time and time again with a metal detector as the guards continually ask him whether or not he has anything dangerous on “his person.”

Osama Graves: “Does the crappy music on my iPod count as dangerous?!”

JSG stopped in the middle of his fifteenth scan for metal and stared me directly in the eyes.

Joe Security Guard: “Do you think this is funny, Son?!”
Osama Graves: “Not so much funny as ridiculous.”
Joe Security Guard: “You think National Security is ridiculous?!”

Realizing that there was no right answer, I chose to stay quiet and instead reply in my head with not ridiculous, but certainly blog-worthy.

Eventually—following an all-too-thorough pat-down—they realized that I was not, in fact, a threat to the lives of American citizens. JSG hastily jammed my things back into my bag–nearly destroying the zipper in the process–and sent me on my way.

I’ve never been more proud to be an American than I was that morning…especially because I then had to scamper at a pace far too rapid for 6:00am to find my gate and board my plane in the final moments before they were about to close the doors and leave the gate.

Thanks airport security. You’re the bestest.

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