Liquids or solids and all clearly visible in a plastic bag, but I guess it doesn’t matter whether you consider yogurt a liquid or a solid – as I understand it, and tell me if you think I’m wrong, something I eat with a spoon is a solid, and something I drink is a liquid – and though there is a drinking kind of yogurt, that’s not what I take for my airplane snack, so why do the screeners at the airport insist on throwing away my yogurt, my solid-eat-with-a-spoon-yogurt
which is very different from the-drink-with-a-straw-yogurt?
It’s that wretched shoe bomber’s fault!
First of all, I like eating yogurt on the plane, and as the airport shops do not sell real yogurt, only the artificially colored, chemically enhanced variety that is a very distant cousin to the real thing, I take a small container every time I fly and sometimes I’m allowed to eat it on the plane, but sometimes I’m not, and when the airport screeners pick up my travel bag and ask,”Whose bag is this?” I always feel as though I’m having a bad dream, I don’t know about you, but having to admit ownership of one’s bag in that shoe-less line always makes me feel as if I’m in the nude, and guilty.
“You can’t take this yogurt!” they tell me looking very cross, and I’ll mumble something and walk away from my tasty snack knowing how much I’ll miss it.
Last time they wanted to take my yogurt I got *m*a*d*, but I know one can’t get angry at the airport, people have been jailed just for raising their voices in the airport, so I said in a very calm voice, “Forgive me, I’m very sorry, give it back to me. I’m not hungry, but I can’t bear the thought of throwing away food, so I’ll eat it now,” and the Transportation Security Administration person in her official uniform who was checking my bags said,
“Very good Ma’am, if you want to eat the yogurt, you must go back outside to eat it, and when you’ve eaten it all then you can come back and take off your shoes and wait in the line for us to search your property again.“
“What? You’ve got to be kidding? I’ve waited in this line for three-quarters of an hour and you want me to go back outside? Perhaps you’ve forgotten with all this business with our shoes, and yogurt, that I’m here because I have a plane to catch?” I said to myself, and out loud I smiled sweetly and said, “Thank you if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just stand on the side here, and eat my yogurt.”
“Oh no, you can’t eat anything over here Ma’am,” she said straightening the shirt of her uniform, and standing up straight to show me she was in charge.
“It’s just a little container of yogurt,” I said, “I’ll eat it fast. See here’s my spoon.”
“You are not allowed to eat anything here Ma’am,” she glared at me, “Do you want me to call the supervisor?“
Good grief, did she really expect me to stand in that 45 minute line again? I had to obey the official TSA authority. I solemnly watched her throw my tasty Organic Berry yogurt that-you-eat-with-a-spoon in the trash. I wanted to take a photo of my yogurt lying in the trash, but I knew if I took out a camera, I most probably would not have not taken my seat on the plane, and my non-arrival would disappoint my very own Mother who was eagerly waiting for me, so I took a deep breath, counted to five, asked for forgiveness for the wasted food, and walked on.
As I tried to explain to my Mom who hasn’t flown in over a decade, and couldn’t believe that we really take off our shoes, and other indignities, air travel ain’t what it used to be…