Set the alarm to give us plenty of time to get ready for our journey to DC today. Flight left at a bit after 2:00, so it was a pretty relaxed day until we reached the airport, then all hell broke loose. At the security line, Hubby and I always have to split up, because he has to go get a patdown because his defibrillater implant can’t go through the metal detector, and neither of us want to go through the body scanner, mostly because we don’t believe them when they tell us it doesn’t emit radiation. I’ve never had to go through the “enhanced” patdown, and frankly I believe it’s a violation of my 4th Amendment rights, inasmuch as they should have to have at least SOME cause to believe I’m concealing something before they should be allowed to do that kind of search, not when there are other options (like the metal detector) to make that determination. Anyway, off Hubby went, leaving me with all of the carryon to deal with, when I was arbitrarily told to go through the body scanner rather than the metal detector, which meant leaving all the luggage behind. First I couldn’t understand what they were asking me, so I stayed in the line I was in. When they finally made it clear to me that they wanted me to go through the scanner, I asked if I could stay with my luggage, as my husband had already been taken away to get his patdown. Well, you would have thought I had asked them to stop the world to let me get off. Next thing I knew, I was literally being ORDERED into the body scanner. Again, I protested, saying that I didn’t want to go through the scanner because of the radiation (true or not, I still felt I should have the choice). They told me no, that I had to go through. I continued to protest, so they took me over to where my luggage was, made me point out which bags were mine (by now Hubby and gotten back and he mistakenly tried to tell them our stuff was mixed in together, which now made everything we had subject to the search they were about to do). So they took all four bags to a table at the end of the line, and two people then VERY SLOWLY started to search every nook and cranny of every piece of luggage we had, taking everything out, opening everything that could be opened, sniffing everything, even using some kind of wipe to look for bomb residue or something. Now, bear in mind, nothing was spotted when the bags went through the scanner, and nothing was done to warrant the search except my rejection of going through the body scanner. They continued to insist that I had to go through the body scanner or get patted down. Meanwhile, they decided it was necessary to call law enforcement. Within minutes, there were SIX sheriff’s deputies standing nearby. Now, bear in mind, this whole time I keep asking to be allowed to go through the metal detector. That’s all I wanted to do. But no, because I wasn’t doing exactly what they wanted me to do, the TSA had decided to punish me in every way available to them. If I refused to go through the body scanner, then I would be escorted to the gate by the deputies, and they would make sure I DIDN’T get on the plane. Despite the fact they were doing their absolute best to make me late, thereby missing my plane, we had arrived in plenty of time, so at least that wasn’t an issue. By now, though, they made it clear they had no intention of letting me go through the metal detector, period, and that if I wanted to fly, I would have to do either the body scanner or the patdown. I had no choice. I went into the body scanner. Before going in, however, the woman said I may STILL have to undergo a patdown afterward if they saw fit. Well, naturally, the scanner showed nothing, but naturally, they insisted I get a patdown anyway, which consisted of a complete stranger groping me in areas no one but my husband is allowed to touch. It was outrageous and totally uncalled for, but by this time, it was all about control, and absolutely NOTHING about security. It was clear they were doing it all to teach me a lesson, to make me a good little comrade, to make sure next time I simply obeyed, and I was not allowed to be a conscientious objector to their outrageous methods. I’m a tough person, but I found this whole incident sickening. My stomach was churning, my temper was seething, and I was forced to practically laugh and shake my head at the situation, because otherwise I would have slugged someone, and then I never would have made my plane. I wondered if I had had a yellow star pinned to my coat as I let the authorities drag me away in anyone would have said anything. It truly felt just like that, though, as if I was being persecuted for absolutely no reason except that they could. They were toying with me, and enjoying my suffering. I used to be nice to TSA people, thinking they were only doing their jobs, but no more, at least not at PBI. They were animals, with no sense of decency, and they should be brought to task, but unfortunately, the laws on the books give them the right to do ANYTHING in the name of “air safety.” Their stance is that flying is a privelege not a right, so if you want to avoid the hassles at security, simply don’t fly. By the time I got on the plane I was sick to my stomach. Unfortunately, that only became worse as we started to come into DC for a landing. There was a line of thunderstorms in the area, and the last 30 minutes of the flight was incredibly turulent, sloshing my already upset stomach even more. I almost didn’t make it to the landing, holding a barf bag in my hand just in case. It was almost more than I could bear. Finally, we landed (and I have to say, it was incredibly smooth, even if the weather had been fine, but with the wind it was remarkablly well done), but stayed on the plane until it was almost empty, just trying to gather our wits. Finally we left, and picked up our box of books that we had checked (it was cheaper to pay the $25 baggage fee than to ship it UPS), and caught the shuttle to the National Sheraton. I had to ask the driver to take it easy, as my stomach was still a long way from being settled, and he did okay, but I was still churning by the time we arrived at the hotel. I turned out to be quite a nice place, only a few minutes from the airport but not in the midst of Crystal City, which made it quieter. Being on the 12th floor helped too. We settled down for the evening, ordering Chinese delivery for dinner, and crashed later, exhausted but still irritated over the events of the day.
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