The things you hear

[scarlettina]

One of the things I have long enjoyed about my neighborhood is that I often am reminded that I live near a lake in the middle of the city. Despite the occasional inconvenience of living on the side of the lake farthest from the freeway, it still gives me a great deal of pleasure. And though it's scenic, it's also a busy lake with a great deal of

Comments

Fine with TSA

[the_same_andrew]

I'm actually fine with the TSA-- if it makes them happy to cavity-search a fat middle-aged white guy at the gate, well, I honestly don't mind. I find being searched and interrogtated by a pissed-off working-class security guard far less offensive than being trapped in an aluminum-and-carbon-fibre tube surrounded by the stressed-out snotty upper-middle. The worst they'll do is keep me from boarding the plane. If I had time, I'd take the Greyhound, and that's the truth. The least stress I've ever had has been riding that grey dog, with all the other stinky pilgrims who talk to themselves and measure distance in smoke breaks.

It's the Border guys that make me so nervous. Entering the States one time (This was before passports were required; I had left my passport at home so as not to lose it...) I was ushered out for the all-possessions-searched treatment when I gave he wrong answer, or the right answer too nervously, or whatever. It occurred to me that I really had no way to prove much of anything, and I really didn't know what they were looking for.

I can't imagine flying anywhere of my own accord; the last time I went anywhere was to a stupid conference in stupid Florida. I guess I get through it by constantly reassuring myself: if they don't let me into their country or onto the plane, I can always tell my Director that it really wasn't my idea to just stay home.