Curses, Foiled Again


Attention all Evil-Doers.

Note to self: when taking over the world with you super-evil death ray from the strategically crucial access point at Dulles Airport, you would think that a little old lady in a wheelchair would enable you to sail through security. Apparently, this ploy is just too obvious.

John's Grannie had a wonderful visit. She arrived with a suitcase as big as she is (not large for a human, very large for luggage). She told us stories, she treated us to dinner, she met some of our friends. We laughed and talked and brought her innumerable cups of black coffee. When it was time for her to go on Sunday, we both took her out to the airport (when I picked her up on my own on Thursday, the combination of wheelchair and giant luggage caused me to dragoon a skycap just to get her out to the car). Thus teamed up, we rolled into Dulles*and got Grannie checked in. Regulations allow a disabled person to be accompanied by one non-flying companion, so John gave his ID and we waited.

And waited.

Our old nemesis, the "Terrorist Watch List" was at it again: the TSA had to be called because my husband's incredibly suspicious moniker was flashing all sorts of warnings over the check-in-bot's screens. In the meantime, he handed his pocket knife and ball-point pen to me, as I was staying on this side of the iron curtain. The truly skilled John Smiths can build backup death rays with ball-point pens and pocket knives, you see, and he wanted to avoid suspicion.

The upshot of all of this drama, of course, is that John was cleared of any suspicion of trying to take over the world with his super-evil death ray, he got Grannie settled at the gate, and I took the rented wheelchair back to the car and waited, wishing I had thought to bring a book with me. As are most of my stories, this one is anticlimactic.


* Insert mini-rant here: was there ever an airport more poorly laid out, with worse signage? If there is, I do not want to know about it. I especially do not want to know about it while pushing a wheelchair and trying to avoid herds of idiots roaming around without looking where they are going.

Posted: Monday - June 27, 2005 at 06:48 AM         | |


©