O. Mahogany said...
The Scene: Atlanta Airport
I had just had a delicious goat
cheese turkey burger and glass of Leyda Chilean wine when I realized I
still had another hour and half before my flight. Sooo....
I
refused to take off my shoes. Well sort of, lol. I was wearing a gown so
my feet were covered and I almost made it past the first agent until I
carelessly pulled my dress by its hem in order to walk.
"Take off your shoes before you go ma'am" she said.
"But I'm wearing sandals."
"Still have to take them off too."
I
took pages from your book about wanting
to see the Federal regulation
stating I had to take off my shoes. She told me how "they didn't do
that" like a robot with a bad script. I asked for her supervisor. A
woman, and I make no exaggerations here, she looked like that security
officer that Martin Lawrence played on his sitcom...the wig was so
terribly dry and matted and she wore the most hideous glasses. But she
was an old lady so I tried not to laugh. She says nothing as she walks
up to me. More like she was surprised she would have an opportunity to
speak with a flyer. I started for her..
"Hi, I was told by this
lady that I would need to take off my shoes to pass through security,
even though I'm wearing thong sand-
"Yes, we have 100% all shoe policy. You must take off your shoes or you cannot pass through"
I ask to see this in writing.
"Ma'am we don't do that here. Now are you gonna comply with the rules now?"
"No, I don't think I will. Can I speak to your supervisor?"
She gives me the nastiest look as I step aside to let the others pass me. She lets loose now.
"All
these people here, all these people take off their shoes ma'am and you
don't think you should have to? Why do you think if all these people
take off their shoes why do you think you shouldn't have to? Are you any
better than them?
(That's debatable I say to myself)
"Soo..you're not going to let me speak to your supervisor?"
She walks off and brings back a super summo powerhouse fat lady that is about to pop. I'm intimidated. She's going to eat me.
She speaks:
"yes ma'am, how are you?"
"I'm fine," I say, explaining the situation and coming to similar conclusions.
"Well
ma'am that's our TSA policy. All passengers are required to take off
their shoes. You didn't take off your shoes at the other airports?"
(damn.) "I wore socks. I'm wearing sandals now and I simply don't feel up to touching your floors."
"You don't have socks in your bags?"
"No."
"Well ma'am if you wont take off your shoes, I'll have to escort you out"
I look at her
like I wish you would. She begins again:
"...but what I will do, if you like, I'll get some towels and sanitizer and wipe your feet for you. Would you like that?"
I think and agree that I have now heard it all.
"Ok" I say.
I
can hear the lady with the matted down wig asking what the verdict
would be. She tells her that she will be wiping my feet and the lady
with the bad hair gets sour faced.
I take off my sandals, walk
through and as soon as I reach the other side my agent supervisor meets
me at a chair directing me to have a seat and assists me by wiping the
small bit of dirt from my feet.
I respect her
decision (no matter who the initial idea came from) in understanding
that people don't mind losing their freedoms when they are given some
dignity back.