My Encounter with a Party-Pooping TSA Agent

Of the 206 million U.S. citizens who will be flying somewhere this summer, a few are bound to run into the diminutive TSA man with the big attitude at Seattle Tacoma International Airport. Because I myself had no forewarning of this hostile little fellow, as you now do, my brief interaction with him left me with no quick comebacks to his snide insinuations regarding my apparent lack of flying experience, and his unsolicited lecture on the security "umbrella" under which all U.S. airports operate. But most of all, I want you to be prepared with a real zinger if he inquires sarcastically, as he did me, "Is this your first time?"

Oh I regret that having just disembarked a 7-day ship voyage through Alaska's Inside Passage I had not yet emerged from the placid, sedated state of well-being that being fed every three hours and rocked to sleep each night for a whole week can induce. Indeed, I had regressed to a serene, trusting, infant as I meandered past the inconspicuous TSA agent at the SeaTac airport, dragging behind me my toiletries case and a tote bag full of Alaskan T-shirts.

"Where are you going?" I heard a voice call after me as I sauntered towards the security x-ray area. I turned to see the quizzically irritated face of the pedestrian traffic director who had moments earlier waved us towards him and whom I continued to shuttle past. He was wearing a blue uniform, unlike the bright whites of most of the other TSA agents. I turned on my heels and bumped directly into my husband who was following too closely usual, and who also apparently thought the unobtrusive man was a people director. We both walked back to the man who was now glaring at us, thinking perhaps he wanted to direct us into a different line. He held out his hand as if he wanted something. Having just finished a week's worth of fairly heavy tipping I instinctively reached for my wallet and then noticed that my husband was handing the annoyed fellow his driver's license and boarding pass. The perturbed man eyed me and then sputtered indignantly, "Is this your first time?"

"First time what?" I inquired.

"Flyeeeng!"he barked with a heavy Indian accent.

Doh! He knew it wasn't and I knew he knew it wasn't because the boarding pass I had just handed him, after finally figuring out he wasn't just a people-waver-oner but a very important driver's license checker, was a return trip pass.

"First time at this airport," I responded truthfully.

"Well, don't you know you're supposed to stop?" he wailed.

"Well," I proffered, "At most airports you guys are usually standing at a podium."

"No," he shook his head violently and countered with a heavy Indian accent, "we are all under dee same security umbrella!"

"No, at most other airports you people are at a podium, not just standing here in the middle of nowhere with your little navy blue uniform waving people here and there without any identification whatsoever, and we're supposed to know that we're suddenly supposed to stop for you and show you our license? And not only that, my first time is none of your business you pretentious little airport guy."

O.K., so I didn't really say that last paragraph. But I strongly encourage you to do so should you encounter this surly TSA agent, or any of his party pooping brethren this traveling season. Let 'em have it!

Just make sure he has given you back your driver's license and boarding pass and you are safely inside the plane first.