The Word Cloud

I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be one of those people who exudes guilt; why else would they stop me almost every time I go through customs?

I’m not a bad sort. I do not have a criminal record, don’t do drugs, don’t smuggle contraband, am tolerant of and empathise with all religions, creeds, colours and do not hold radical political beliefs. I don’t even have points on my driving licence! Oh, and I’m married to a judge. Does none of this count for anything?

Don’t get me wrong, after 9/11 who wouldn’t agree with tough security measures at airports. However, having observed one woman in Boston Airport totally abandon her luggage to go off and fetch coffee and text her mates for quarter of an hour without so much of a batting of an eyelid by security, I wonder how effective can the other stringent security measures be.

When you enter the U.S. you are required to have your fingerprints and photograph taken and a copy of your passport is scanned. (This seems a little odd that as even our own government authorities are not entitled to hold our fingerprints without good reason.)

Upon leaving the U.S., having scanned my passport again, the customs official offered my passport back to me, then held on tight to it when I tried to relieve her of it. She stared me out for a good long while before eventually letting it go. I didn't know what to say and chose to say nothing. Was this the wrong thing to do? At the hand luggage scanner, my laptop was scanned, re-scanned then examined even more closely before it was finally returned to me; everyone else’s went through without a hitch, I noticed.

When I recovered my named-strapped suitcase at Heathrow, the padlock had been bolt-coppered and a leaflet stuck inside the case along with the severed lock to say that my luggage had been subjected to a ‘random search’. Yes ladies, to my horror someone had rummaged through my smalls without even having the decency of having me present at the time.

I ask myself why? All that's different about my laptop is, being a former accountant, I had purchased one with a number keypad attached. All that was different about my luggage was that it contained a couple of bottles from Boots – one containing a multi-vitamin supplement and one containing Evening Primrose Oil, oh and a blister of paracetamol  just in case. What was so threatening about these items? Do they think that I was about to use the number keypad on my laptop, in-flight, to send a numerically coded message to the Evening Primrose to make it spontaneously combust?

I tell you, as a fifty year old, hormonally challenged woman currently subject to extreme hot-flushes, the only thing in danger of spontaneously combusting in-flight was me.

Why? I feel violated. ‘s not fair! Do I look that dodgy to you?

...(On second thoughts, don’t answer that.)