Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Chicken Breast Threat Level Orange

I never intended to pose a threat to airport security but on the way out of town, I realized that the fluid filled sacks in my carry on luggage might very likely cause alarm, attract attention, and, frankly, mortify me.

Two days ago, I learned that many of my female colleagues were planning to wear floor length gowns to our office's 'black tie optional' event though I had assumed we’d go with cocktail length dresses since we'd be working the event.

I scrambled, asking friends if they had anything formal I could borrow.

One friend (who shall remain nameless for reasons that will become clear as the story unfolds) loaned me a strappy, red number.

When I tried it on, she eyed me critically and said, “You’re going to need the chicken breasts.”

[That's the face I made too.]

She went to a drawer and pulled out two silicon filled sacks and told me to drop them in my bra.

“Trust me,” she said.

I was skeptical, but lo, said chicken breasts propped up the tired, old girls and gave them renewed vitality.

Who knew?

I borrowed the dress and the…items, loaded them into my carry-on luggage and headed for the airport.

Only when I was underway did it occur to me that the two squishy objects might be an issue at airport security.

Would they unpack my bag and expose my udder subterfuge?

[swidt?]

Thankfully, the Atlanta airport security employees let the… support group… sail through the line, but agents at Reagan National Airport were not so easily duped upon my return this morning.

My bag was in the x-ray machine when I heard the TSA agent call out to a colleague.

“What do you think that could be?” I heard him say.

There was a pause.

I piped up, “I can tell you what they are,” I said, “though I’m embarrassed about it."

I wondered how suspicious I looked.

The second agent leaned over to his colleague and whispered with authority and confidence, “PUSH UPS!!

He turned and faced me with a wink and my luggage rolled towards my blush colored face.

I left DC grateful that TSA agents understand that some “secret weapons” are completely harmless aboard an aircraft.

[And for the record, I didn’t end up wearing the silicon support group. I went with the basic black cocktail dress... because I am a chicken.]


Proof:


Shown here with @Genuine.
I'm especially fond of the way the shadowy light makes me look like I'm missing my two front teeth. Changing blog name to Oh, the Trailer Park now...
UPDATED: Proof that I actually have all my teeth.