“Why are we wasting time? There’s no point to all these new measures if gate security is just going to look at me -- and girls like me -- and not search us. You see pigtails, cute faces, and assume we’re not carrying drugs or weapons.”
I doubt anyone remembered my monolog, but it felt cool to say something that implied I was a bad girl while pointing out gender biases.
My foray into smuggling was unintentional. One time during a morning check, security discovered a massive screwdriver in my bag. “Oh, I was doing an experiment in my yard. I must have forgotten it.” Without question, he returned the weapon -- because that’s what it could have been -- and sent me on my way.
“Why are your eyes red?” asked the guard.
“Because I went to bed with mascara on and now my eyes are irritated.” I was blunt and unconcerned. My excuse seemed legitimate, and he waved me into the campus. I was never selected for random drug testing.
They interrupted a would-be uninspiring Economy class for a surprise security check. Rebecca was the lucky winner of today’s random search lottery. Tardiness, a lighter, Visine, dark lips, breath mints, a Bob Marley drawstring bag, and no textbooks. Com’on, you don’t need Scooby Doo and the entire gang to solve this mystery! The clues were overwhelming. I reapplied my lip balm while waiting to see if they would take her for questioning.
“Alright. Have a seat Miss and don’t be late again.” He said with a thick Curacaolaan accent.
Under normal circumstances, I had no need to smuggle contraband. However, if they were going to let everyone slide, why not have fun?! I was a bored good girl determined to spice up my time in purgatory.
The uninventive tried and failed to sneak phones and other blacklisted items in their shoes and baggy pants. Girls with overdeveloped mammary glands used their bras to carry illicit items. They rationalized the metal detectors beeping on their multiple gold and silver chains. I was not blessed in that way. Hiding behind femininity and the threat of sexual harassment was child’s play.
I aspired to be iconic. Before we knew of Joanne the Scammer, Sharon Stone was the most infamous femme fetale.
I wrapped the phone in my hair and decorated the square bun with chopsticks. I passed my at-home ‘bend and shake’ test. I’d learned from the rookies who’s phones fell out of their hair when they bent over to remove their shoes. Their first mistake was trying to hide a Nokia – A BIG OL’E NOKIA – in their struggle strands. Oh, baby. What is you trying to do? You goin’ need lengths and some tracks to pull off a Golden Globe-winning stunt like this. As Sharon (Ginger McKenna) would say “I wouldn't do that if I were you. I wouldn't do that.”
Hugs and kisses to the criminals with the struggle edges. Shout out to the security guards who leave no stone unturned during their checks.