It only happens to me....#1 in a Series

    

    One of the reasons I rarely travel anymore is because I detest flying as it is now. Gone are the carefree days of running to the airport at the last minute, lavish meals (with real silverware) served at 30,000 feet and the sheer novelty of leaving one coast of the United States and being on the other coast in a mere five hours. Heady stuff!! Those days are long gone....

     Recently, I broke down and decided to make a coast-to-coast trip from Boston, Massachusetts to Portland, Oregon to celebrate my Father's 81st birthday. Believe me, if it had been merely his 80th birthday it would have been a no go.

     I was pleasantly surprised to breeze through the TSA gauntlet of security challenges at Boston Logan Airport. For some reason known only to the Gods, I received a special, "Red Stamp of Pre-Approval," on my Boarding Pass. No need to remove my Laptop from it's nest in my perfectly packed Backpack. No need to be 'wanded' down or even to walk through the 360 degree full body X-ray machine. While others struggled with dressing and undressing, I walked by in my stocking feet, grabbed my boots, purse, and fabulously attractive lavender Backpack and proceeded on to the gate.

     I should have known that the Gods of Security would not let me slide by so easily.

     On my return flight from Portland International Airport (a beautiful facility that sports live piano music in the Concourse) it would not be so easy. 

     I approached the TSA check out line with verve and confidence. I read the posted rules and prepared to comply with agility and grace. I pulled my knee high riding boots off without falling over (so far so good), out came my iPhone, Laptop, beautiful pink cosmetic case with clear window so as better to view my entire beauty regimen. Off came my shawl and any remaining jewelry. I filled four gray bins and wished I had four more hands to keep track of them.

     Then I stood alone to face the beast that was the 360 degree full body X-ray machine. "Step forward and place your feet on the yellow footprints. Hold your hands over your head." I was almost there, I could hear the soothing notes of the pianist and see my gate. I entered the sacred space.

     Red lights. Alarm sound. "Oh damn....it's too late now," I hear from the over-sized female TSA agent to my left. "Step out here ma'am. Do you consent to a pat down search here or in private?" Deer in headlights look in my eyes, "Here, I guess." Female hands roaming over my entire lower body. Me: I thought this machine picks up metal? Her: No, it actually alerts on bulges, you know like the Underwear Bomber. I look down trying to figure out what bulge I was sporting and then I saw it....IT! That thing that had destroyed a nearly perfect trip through the Security Checkpoint: The knot at the end of my scarf that fell squarely over my crotch. It was this 'bulge' that had done me in.

    And the Gods of Security smiled....