The Continued and Proven Ridiculousness of the TSA
Let me preface this entire post by repeating what I have said before: I would make a really crappy terrorist. I'm practically covered head-to-toe in tattoos and have an air about me that makes strangers stop and stare as if I have altered their entire reality by simply walking by. I can't explain it but as a result, I've never fit in wherever I've been, be it elementary school, the Las Vegas Greyhound bus terminal or even the Land of Fruits and Nuts that I called home for over a decade in California. It's not like I have two heads or anything, nor do I have a deformed limb or third eye, it's just that I put out this weird vibe that screws with just about anyone I come across (and I'm sure anyone who has met me can confirm this). I'm not complaining, it's a pretty sweet power to possess most of the time. I tried blending in several times in my 20s and finally gave up, accepting that I will simply never be one of those blank faces in the crowd, tattoos or not.
As a result, though, I'd be the worst terrorist ever. Can you imagine a terrorist cell trying to recruit the obvious chick to do their bidding? Yeah right, they want people who can blend in, be anonymous, move like ninjas through the airport and do whatever terrible deed they have in store. Not only that but as much as I'm disappointed in America lately, I'm still a polite Midwestern girl at heart and hurting people just isn't my thing.
So with all that said, let me tell you how stupid TSA is.
On a recent jaunt to California (first time since I abandoned it almost two years ago, thank you very much), I only had 24 hours in the state and therefore had to make each one count. I managed to make a dinner date with my former gay office husband who I love to this day more than a lot of human beings on this planet at one of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco, Q.
If you are ever in town, I absolutely recommend a stop there if you can make it. Not only can you enjoy the local flavor real locals enjoy (not just the Disneyland-esque crap they offer tourists at the Wharf), but you will eat good, have magnetic letters to play with and can taste some of the best aioli you will ever try in your life, Q's trademark chili-lime. I don't know what they put in it but it must be a mixture of crack cocaine and unicorn farts.
Anyway... after dinner, I kindly asked (read: begged) our waitress if I could buy a vat of the stuff to bring home to DC, seeing as how I'd been craving it for the two years since I left San Francisco like a porn addict craves group scenes (trust and believe I told her as much). When she blessed me with an entire large container of it for the low price of $2.00, I practically squealed with joy. That is until I realized that I somehow had to get this stuff on a plane back to DC in my carry-on bag.
Entirely unwilling to spend $25 to check my one small bag for the return flight and resourceful girl that I am, I promptly hit Target and bought up a bunch of 3 oz. shampoo bottles from the travel section. I proceeded to carefully fill them with the precious aioli one by one until I had 9 perfectly packaged, TSA-approved bottles of the divine chili-lime ready to go.
But therein lies the ridiculousness of the TSA. Why did I even have to bother? It's obvious just to look at the stuff that it's SAUCE - delicious, precious, tasty sauce - and besides, there's that whole thing about me being obvious right? So what terrorist do you know that would be A) a blue-eyed white chick and B) trying to make a bomb out of delicious, precious, tasty chili-lime sauce? It's absolutely ridiculous. Can you even make a bomb out of bright orange, flavorful sauce? I can't say I know.
The problem here, obviously, is that TSA is staffed with a bunch of mall cop dropouts who are incapable of making decisions or observations. On a connecting flight on my way to California, I accidentally missed my terminal and had to turn around at the obvious DO NOT EXIT NO GOING BACK sign that led out of the airport. So of course the mall cop staffing the exit had to call in to the fellow TSA lackeys to inform them that there was a lone female turning around OH GOD ALERT THE AUTHORITIES SOMEONE IS TURNING AROUND. Good to know TSA is keeping track of obvious Americans who have trouble following confusing airport signs when the real terrorists are plotting their next attack as we speak.
So, like any good American, I brought my 9 ounces of sauce packaged in convenient 3 oz portions through security and lugged them home just like I planned to. No SSSS boarding pass, no additional screening, just an obvious American shlepping herself home on an overpriced airline that charges extra just to pick a seat.
Of course, I guess I owe the TSA a favor. The fact that I had to put the aioli in little squeeze bottles means I now have a convenient way to squirt the stuff on everything from burgers to sandwiches. SUCK IT, TERRORISTS!
God bless America! Don't let the terrorists win! And if they do, those bastards can't have any of my sauce.