Playmobil Security Check Point
Isn't this a delightful toy? I wish I could take credit for conjuring it up in Photoshop but it's the real deal, manufactured by Playmobil and obtainable online and at brick-and-mortar toy stores. It's, you know, educational, intended to help our youngest denizens of a police state travelers learn about the ways of the real world. Adorable as it is, I'm afraid it falls a bit short of the mark as a tool to prepare the little ones for the excitement of airport security. What is wrong with this picture, boys and girls?
Well, our androgynous traveler is about to be taken into the custody of Homeland Security, just as I am every time I go through the metal detector. In my (recurring!) case, it's because the big hunk o' titanium where my left knee used to be sets off alarms in American screening machines. Little plastic Pat here is in trouble because of failure to remove shoes, jacket and scarf, despite instructive signs, TV monitors and the example of fellow travelers in that long, long line leading to the security checkpoint. Also, Pat's not holding a boarding pass. Oh-oh! The TSA person is going to have to make a judgement call about whether to shout out "female assist" or "male assist" for Pat's special screening. And we're a bit concerned about that scarf. Could it perhaps be a keffiyeh? Pat does have very dark hair.
OK, female assist. While we're waiting (and waiting!) for the TSA lady, we'll put Pat in a little booth of bullet-proof glass so she can watch her carry-on as it trundles out of the x-ray box. Don't take your eyes off your stuff, Pat! If someone else grabs it, you won't be able to do much about it because you are now In Custody, and if you try to bust out of that little booth you will be in Big Trouble.
When the TSA lady unlocks the door, Pat should look her in the eye and ask her firmly to take the suitcase off the conveyor and put it where Pat can see it during her screening. No, Pat, no! You can't touch your belongings! Not until you've removed the offending articles of clothing and been wanded front, back, and between your legs. Also, TSA needs to feel your breasts, insert a gloved hand between your navel and the snap on your jeans and compel you assume various stylized modern-dance positions. Ready?
As a frequent flyer with an alarm-activating fake body part, I'm in a position to offer useful airport security tips to Pat and other occasional travelers. I've been felt up by security personnel across the US, in Europe and in Asia. My favorite feel, hands down (as it were), is by black security women anywhere. In my experience, they are friendly, matter-of-fact about the intrusive aspects of their jobs and vocally appreciative of a smacked-down stick-straight 'do like mine. TSA personnel in the heartland of the US tend to be so goldurn nice it's easy to ignore the fact that one is running her hands up your thighs; at MSP a TSA lady gave me a genuinely sympathetic Fargo-esque "Aw, Jeeze" when I was explaining about my gimpy knee.
Pat should be prepared for some pretty tough questioning if she connects through Germany: "And why were you in Italy? Yes, and what was your favorite painting at the Uffizi? Who was in your room with you when you packed your bag? What was your favorite painting at the Uffizi? Why were you in Italy?" The Teutonic feel-up itself is thorough, dour and dead silent.
Listen, Pat: if you're traveling with a husband-type, get a couple of things settled in advance. Make him promise to back you up if approached by a guy with a gun (Answerjack once challenged me when I told an armed National Guardsman at Newark, one week post 9/11, that I was born in Chicago; he mis-heard and thought I was being asked my destination, which was SFO). In a related vein, get him to agree not to insult anyone with a badge and a weapon; as foppish as those carabinieri look in their powder-blue caped uniforms, their Uzi are real, as we found out when Answer called one an asshole under his breath at Fiumicino. Consider traveling alone, Pat.
Make sure that you're OK exposing to the world whatever you've got under your jacket; no filmy camisoles unless you've embraced your inner exhibitionist and are not prone to goosebumps. And for god's sake don't engage in chitchat about the safest part of the plane, particularly if you are a person of color.
I, for one, am keen to find a Playmobil Guantanamo play set for hands-on learning about another aspect of Homeland Security. I'd pop for rendition action figures, too. Until then, we'll have to augment our Security Checkpoint learning center with this educational toy:
Hey, a traffic cop with a radar gun and a sidearm! Don't speed on your way to the airport, Pat. And really, I'd re-think that keffiyeh. Have a good trip!
