Friday 15 October 2004

Cameron is a fucking moron, disaster (temporarily) averted.

As many of you know I spent the weekend in Albuquerque. I have a rather amusing account of my travel.

My flight was scheduled to depart at 7:20 pm but I left my office at around 4:00 to avoid the rush hour cluster fuck on the train. Realizing I probably didn't need the jacket I was wearing I grabbed a backpack from my under my desk, stuffed the coat in, and headed
for the Orange Line. Unfortunately, the extra hour I allotted my self, served little purpose as the el was packed tighter then a Wrigleyville bar after a Cubs game (stupid Cubs). At one of the stops a girl in a pink jacket with a barbell through her eyebrow got on
and stood next to me. She was fairly attractive. Small frame, but a nice ass, blond hair and green eyes that glinted with mischief (read: chaos). I struck up a conversation. Her name was Erin, she was a student at DePaul and was on her way somewhere to visit someone, I don't know I kind of drifted in and out of the conversation as it was rather bland and she did little to increase my interest, she was not what I would call intelligent, but whatever, it beat staring out the window for 45 minutes.

We arrived at the airport and the hordes of people leaving the train caused me to lose her in the crowd, but I didn't really care. I lugged my suitcase up the stairs, across the moving walkway and toward the ticket line. Erin ended up behind me. We began conversing briefly before I was summoned to the next available agent. I checked in, smiled at Erin and went outside to smoke. When I was finished I wandered toward the security gate and noticed a familiar pink jacket a few people in front of me. I taped her on the shoulder and asked "are you following me?" She laughed and I suggested we get a drink before our flights, she agreed and we plodded toward the metal detectors and x-ray machines like cattle into a barn.

Having been through this farce many times before I had become an expert on expediting this ridiculous process put in place to create a false sense of security. I was ready, belt off watch and wallet in the tray, keys, cigarettes, lighter and change in my bag on the
rollers. I smiled at the security guard asked how she was and walked through the detection frame without incident. I moved to the end of the conveyor belt and
awaited my bag while I chatted with Erin. There was a delay and I looked toward the x-ray operator to see what was going on.

"John, we got something interesting here. Come take a look." I rolled my eyes as the large man sauntered over toward the viewing screen and the portly woman sitting in front of it. She pointed to something and John raised his eyebrows, put on some rubber gloves
and grabbed my bag from the machine.

"My phone charger" I remarked to Erin, shaking my head "they always think it's a bomb."

"Is this yours?" The security guard asked as he approached me.
"Yes, sir"
"May I open it?"
"Of course." I find pleasantness the best method of dealing with these people. Being standoffish only delays the procedures that are already aggravatingly time consuming.

John immediately went to the front pocket and pulled out some shoe polish

"Hey I need to get some of this, thanks for reminding me"

I forced a laugh and said "I forgot that was even in there."

He moved to the other pocket, unzipped it and pulled out my red handled butterfly knife.

"Fuck."

I turned toward Erin who had been waiting patiently behind me. Her expression was one of confusion, with a touch of fear.

"I have to go catch my plane" she said as she walked briskly away from a situation she no longer wanted any part of.

I shook my head, furious with my own stupidity.

"Can I see your boarding pass and ID?"

"Sure." I responded as I handed it over.

He walked over to a desk and made a call, all the while opening and closing the knife.

I am now officially, freaking out. Butterfly knives are illegal; attempting to carry them on a plane is even more illegal. Understand, I am not worried about going to jail so much as I am terrified at the prospect of having to call my mom to say, "Hey, I won't be in town this weekend. Nope, I got arrested for possession of a deadly weapon in an airport."
Those of you who know my mom understand this.

John the security guard begins to shoot the shit with me for a while. I am careful to seem frightened but not nervous and answer his questions appropriately. Give adequate information but don't babble. Don't use 10 words when 2 will do. Be succinct and to the point. At the same provide additional information and extrapolation when necessary don't truncate responses to open-ended questions. Most importantly make it appear that none of this careful, methodical calculation is occurring.

John is actually very calming and I think I will escape with out incident. I begin to settle down, and drop my guard a bit.

The conversation continues and I decide I will most likely be allowed to proceed to my plane, but out of the corner of my eye, I see three police officers approaching. A short, fat man with the requisite mustache, a lanky guy with a buzz cut and a woman wearing all black with a visible vest. My stomach begins to cramp. I feel ill. The fat one asks that I
turn around, I comply he grasps my forearm and I feel the distantly familiar and unmistakable cold metal crescent touch my right wrist, then clamp down. Then
the left. Shit. I turn toward the now bottlenecking crowd of people and notice a sea of faces pointing, whispering and silently judging me. I hang my head in disgust. While I am escorted down the hall John walks beside me flipping open my knife then closing it
despite the fact the he is obviously not proficient with the weapon. There is now no doubt everyone knows exactly what's going on. Thanks, dick.

I was led down the hall into the Airport Police Station where I was place in an interrogation type room, and un-cuffed. I was left alone for a moment and
called J who was picking me up at the airport in ABQ the conversation went something like this

Cameron: "Hey, there is a chance I won't make it in on time"

J: "What did you do, show up late?"

Cameron: "No, I kinda got arrested, I can't really talk but I'll keep you posted"

One of the officers returned and gave me a 2 page form to fill out, it consisted of basic questions like name address phone number, date of birth place of birth, parents names, social security number, etc, etc, etc. It was long repetitive and excruciatingly boring.

When I finished another cop entered and began interrogating me. He asked essentially the same questions that I had just answered on the form while the other guy checked it. Then came the amusing questions.

Officer: "Are you know, or have you ever been under the care of a mental health professional?"

Me: "No, sir" (again I was kissing as much ass as possible.)

Officer: "Are you involved with any of the following groups" listed off 10-15 groups I for the most part hadn't heard of mixed with a few cults and terrorist organizations

This whole fiasco took about an hour at which point the gave me my ID boarding pass and said "The weapon will be confiscated and destroyed"

Luckily because of my ridiculously early arrival, I still made my plane.

Thank god I’m white.

EDIT 10-28-04

Epilogue: As it turns out I am being fined $250 dollars for this, anyone who would like to contribute to this cause I am not proud and will accept donations. It may even be tax deductible. (Probably not)

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