Here There and Everywhere

Expat wanderer

A Wing and a Prayer

We are taught to pray for all things, great and small. I really take that to heart; I pray for the smallest things, and most of the time, my prayer is answered (with a ‘yes’ although sometimes the form the answer takes gives me a grin at God’s great sense of humor.) Today, I had to drive an unfamiliar stretch to return my loaned car – a wonderful Lexus – Little Diamond had loaned me, and that was good for some serious and lengthy prayer, and then I was also praying that the check-in people would overlook the fact that my bag was seriously heavy. Like 60 lbs.

Both prayers were answered. I only got minorly lost and got it worked out fairly quickly, and the guy who checked my bag in didn’t bat an eye, just put a tag on it that said ‘heavy’.

What I had forgotten to pray about was security, but since I was only flying within the US, I didn’t think I would have any trouble.

But here’s the thing. For a long time, I thought we would be retiring to Seattle, so slowly over the years, I would take things to Seattle and store them at my Moms or in a storage locker I rent there. So when I went to my Mom’s this last week, I took few clothes, and a big suitcase, so I can start shifting some of these household items to Pensacola. It wasn’t enough, but I packed it really really full, and then I also had stuff packed in my backpack.

So forgetting to pray about security was a big mistake. The security scanner girl kept squinting at the innards of my backpack, and then called others over, always a bad sign.

Sure enough, they went through my things with the explosives tester and their fine tooth combs.

“Are these silver plates?” the security guy asked incredulously.

“Serving plates,” I responded, and gave no further explanation. I don’t believe in telling people too much, it just confuses them and complicates things.

“What is this??” he asked, holding up two cans that said clearly on the side “smoked salmon”.

“Smoked salmon,” I replied.

Back to the scanner. Twice, back to the scanner. When he brought back all my stuff he asked if I wanted him to repack it.

“No,” I said with sheer disgust. No one can get everything back the way I had it packed but me. Even without the two cans of smoked salmon, which they confiscated. Damn.

Other than that, it was a smooth trip, and my son was there to meet me at the Pensacola airport, and I was home within 20 minutes of landing, how cool is that? Sure wish I had those cans of smoked salmon . . .

August 4, 2010 Posted by | Adventure, Counter-terrorism, Customer Service, ExPat Life, Pensacola, Seattle, Travel | 7 Comments