connections in Oakland are made. Thank you in advance for your cooperation and patience.”
Announcement made me check my boarding pass yet again. Pretended I was worried about missing a connection when I really just making sure my role was memorized for whatever was to come. The plane moved along at a mechanical crawl, coming to a maintenance hangar where law enforcement vehicles and airport equipment surrounded the exterior. Some of the other passengers saw this too and began panicking. Whispers about terrorist plots beginning to percolate as the stepped-up security rattled them. At the front of the cabin, I watched the head flight attendant receive her orders via radio, nodding to whatever she was hearing. As I began keying in on the exit doors, I also watched for something unusual from my fellow passengers that I’d taken for granted. Maybe it was just the bags that needed to be rescreened, but I doubted it.
The main cabin door opened, allowing a single TSA agent to come aboard. He met with the captain first then explained further what the flight attendants needed to do. No guns were drawn. Maybe something minor after all.
“Attention, everyone,” she announced. “We’ll need y’all to deplane with your bags as you would as if exiting at your destination. Keep in mind that you’ll be exiting down a set of stairs, so be careful. Let’s keep it orderly so we can be back underway as soon as possible.”
When it came time for my row’s exodus, I retrieved my carry-on and followed the procession from the plane. When I emerged at the top of the airstairs, I noticed the heightened security below. Two armed men at the bottom and a whole detail separating the passengers into smaller groups that were being wanded with handheld metal detectors while dogs sniffed at their bags.
I descended the stairs into their midst, anxious as to how this shit was going to play out.
“Any idea how long this is going to take?” I asked as I flippantly handed my bag and boarding pass receipt over then checked my watch. “I have a wedding party to attend in Napa and I’m the best man.”
“Not too long, sir,” the overly polite brother towering over me replied. “And we’ll do everything we can to get you back in the air in no time.”
One of the TSA workers stood out. He was supposed to be searching another passenger’s bag. But his eyes were steady on me from his peripheral vision, while faking a rummage through her Louis Vuitton.
And he looked nervous. Triggered those hairs on the back of my neck as I began calculating how far I could get before they caught me.
Not far by my estimation.
I leaned in toward my handler. Lowered my voice to barely a whisper, hoping to sow chaos once more. “Bro, I didn’t want to say this onboard the plane, but ... I think I heard somebody say something was up with the Middle Eastern man in row thirty. Now I got nothin’ against those people, but if there’s something wrong on this flight then ...”
“One-way ticket,” he said to himself while perusing my boarding pass. Doing like he was trained. Focus on the thing at hand no matter how much background chatter I was providing. “That’s one of our red flags. Sir, if you could just head over there with your bag for further screening, we’ll be sure to address any issues there might be with row thirty.”
“See that you do,” I said as I gave him a firm handshake and walked off. He was right. One-way tickets always commanded more scrutiny since 9/11. At least the office where I was directed might give me more options if I needed to cut and run.
Besides, the one I’d caught eyeing me no longer seemed concerned. Maybe he was just hatin’ on a fly brother in a nice suit. Before I turned the knob on the office door, I looked back at the man who’d herded me in this direction. He nodded, urging me on with a smile before inspecting the next person’s ticket.
I walked into an office that was absent any TSA or other passengers.
Announcement made me check my boarding pass yet again. Pretended I was worried about missing a connection when I really just making sure my role was memorized for whatever was to come. The plane moved along at a mechanical crawl, coming to a maintenance hangar where law enforcement vehicles and airport equipment surrounded the exterior. Some of the other passengers saw this too and began panicking. Whispers about terrorist plots beginning to percolate as the stepped-up security rattled them. At the front of the cabin, I watched the head flight attendant receive her orders via radio, nodding to whatever she was hearing. As I began keying in on the exit doors, I also watched for something unusual from my fellow passengers that I’d taken for granted. Maybe it was just the bags that needed to be rescreened, but I doubted it.
The main cabin door opened, allowing a single TSA agent to come aboard. He met with the captain first then explained further what the flight attendants needed to do. No guns were drawn. Maybe something minor after all.
“Attention, everyone,” she announced. “We’ll need y’all to deplane with your bags as you would as if exiting at your destination. Keep in mind that you’ll be exiting down a set of stairs, so be careful. Let’s keep it orderly so we can be back underway as soon as possible.”
When it came time for my row’s exodus, I retrieved my carry-on and followed the procession from the plane. When I emerged at the top of the airstairs, I noticed the heightened security below. Two armed men at the bottom and a whole detail separating the passengers into smaller groups that were being wanded with handheld metal detectors while dogs sniffed at their bags.
I descended the stairs into their midst, anxious as to how this shit was going to play out.
“Any idea how long this is going to take?” I asked as I flippantly handed my bag and boarding pass receipt over then checked my watch. “I have a wedding party to attend in Napa and I’m the best man.”
“Not too long, sir,” the overly polite brother towering over me replied. “And we’ll do everything we can to get you back in the air in no time.”
One of the TSA workers stood out. He was supposed to be searching another passenger’s bag. But his eyes were steady on me from his peripheral vision, while faking a rummage through her Louis Vuitton.
And he looked nervous. Triggered those hairs on the back of my neck as I began calculating how far I could get before they caught me.
Not far by my estimation.
I leaned in toward my handler. Lowered my voice to barely a whisper, hoping to sow chaos once more. “Bro, I didn’t want to say this onboard the plane, but ... I think I heard somebody say something was up with the Middle Eastern man in row thirty. Now I got nothin’ against those people, but if there’s something wrong on this flight then ...”
“One-way ticket,” he said to himself while perusing my boarding pass. Doing like he was trained. Focus on the thing at hand no matter how much background chatter I was providing. “That’s one of our red flags. Sir, if you could just head over there with your bag for further screening, we’ll be sure to address any issues there might be with row thirty.”
“See that you do,” I said as I gave him a firm handshake and walked off. He was right. One-way tickets always commanded more scrutiny since 9/11. At least the office where I was directed might give me more options if I needed to cut and run.
Besides, the one I’d caught eyeing me no longer seemed concerned. Maybe he was just hatin’ on a fly brother in a nice suit. Before I turned the knob on the office door, I looked back at the man who’d herded me in this direction. He nodded, urging me on with a smile before inspecting the next person’s ticket.
I walked into an office that was absent any TSA or other passengers.
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