But I’m Not A Terrorist

Airport Terminal Sign Check In

Have you ever been held up interrogated inspected felt up stopped by security at an airport?

I was traveling from Dallas, Texas, to Los Angeles, California, with giant tears rolling down my face after just saying goodbye to my son and daughter-in-law. I got to the security station and handed the lady my driver’s license and boarding pass. She looked at it and screamed, “Expired license!”

What? I was jarred out of my cry-fest and said, “Huh? A what?”

“This is an expired license. Step aside Ma’am.”

“Wow, you’re good,” I told the guard. “They didn’t catch this at LAX.”

Suddenly, security agents surrounded me. I said to myself: It’s okay; you’ll get through this! Stay calm.

“I was visiting my son here in Texas. I am from California. I just said goodbye to them, that’s why I’m crying. I must have grabbed my old license by mistake. They didn’t even catch this at LAX. Boy, you guys are good. My son is a pastor here in Texas; the church is in Colleyville, Compass Christian Church. He just got married I was visiting them.” (They were probably thinking, “What do we have to do to get you to shut up lady?”) But I am not a terrorist, really, I promise!

“Do you have any other forms of ID?”

“I have a credit card. I have a business card.”

“Anything else?”

“Ah, no.”

“Any mail with your name on it.”


“Any prescription medications with your name on them?”

“Ahhhh YES! Yes, I have my anti-dizzy pills for flying!” Jackpot! Bingo! HALLELUJAH!

“Okay, Ma’am, but we’ll still have to go through your stuff and do a full body check.” Oh, sounds like fun, just like in the movies.

“No problem, I understand. That’s what I get for being an idiot and grabbing the wrong ID.”

“Come with me Ma’am.” Now I am being treated like royalty. This ain’t so bad.

I walked through the canopy thingy and got scanned while they took my stuff…

“Okay, Ma’am I’m going to have to frisk you. Are okay with staying here or would you rather go into a private room?” Let’s get this over with—a private room sounds scary.

“Here is fine. This could be fun. I haven’t been mauled in a week. My husband is in L.A. and I’m sure I’ll be mauled when I get home. This is getting me ready.”

The agents were laughing.

“You haven’t seen your husband in a week?”

“Nope, been visiting my son.”

They thoroughly went through my luggage–I mean thoroughly–and I was on my way. Not so bad after all. Being an idiot can be fun. Now I have something to blog about on the plane!

I’m not sure what the moral of the story is here. Maybe stay calm in stressful situations? Partly. Don’t leave the state without your husband? Don’t leave the house without your husband? Nah. Always wear a bra incase you get felt up by an agent? Nah. Stop crying in airports? Not possible. Put all forms of expired ID’s through the shredder? Yup, that’s it!



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