TSA rules! Tell me…. do I look dangerous to you?  Apparently, the TSA still thinks so.

Rapid City Regional Airport.  Just another nondescript launching pad in the life of a travel writer.  Or so I thought.

But it turned out to be a no-good, very bad, terrible day.

As I’m going through security in the small but deserted airport, the TSA agent stops me and declares that I’m a “random person” and has to swab my hands.  Okay, no problem.  I know I haven’t shot a gun or built a bomb recently.

I hear the TSA agent sigh and mutter under his breath.

“Your hands tested for residue. We have to do a complete security pat-down.”

“Seriously?!?” I say, and give him my meanest face, the one reserved for my kids when they misbehave in church.  “I’m a middle-aged, blonde-ponytailed mother of two with cute luggage.  You think I’m dangerous?”

He gestured to the very young female agent just off to the side.

“The only residue on my hands is the soap from your ladies’ room that I left just 60 seconds ago.” I say.

“Sometimes that sets it off,” he replies.

“Do you think it might be worth considering using a soap brand that doesn’t set off your machine?” I ask, just a bit snarky.

No reaction.

“I’m in the TSA Pre-Check/Global Entry Program!” I scold at the younger female agent.  “It’s easier to get back into this country than to move freely around it!”

She shrank an inch, I think.  She clearly wasn’t enjoying the exchange.

“Well, it’s going to be in private!” I huff.

“Yes, we always do it in a private room,” she says in a soft voice.

Into the small, windowless room we go, with another, older female TSA agent.  The young one pats me down (thankfully not very aggressively because I am ready to launch into my violate-my-Fourth-Amendment-rights tirade) while the older searches and dabs inside my carryon.  The older one is a pro; she immediately engages me in conversation, and we get to talking amiably about my job as a travel writer and how interesting she thinks that is.  Make no mistake, I know she was distracting me, and I let her.  I mean, who wants to stay angry?  So I was over it by the time they released me, a minute or so later.

Israel has the safest airport in the world.  Why?  Because they PROFILE suspicious people, take them aside, and question them.  Yes, I said “profile.”  Get over it.  And stop harassing people who are clearly NOT a threat.  I mean, who’s the last blonde female that caused a transitory problem in the Midwest, Bonnie [Clyde] Parker?  Calamity Jane?

Still, if that’s the worst that happens to me today, I’m still better off than most people, right?

BUT WAIT…

I walk a hundred feet or so to my gate and sit down.  The Frontier Airline agent on the intercom tells everyone they have to make sure their carry-on passes the “size test.”  My carry-on is actually a rolling briefcase, and it always fits overhead or under the seat, so I’m not worried and don’t bother to size it.  But she’s on the intercom again and insists that you will not board the plane unless you’ve passed the check.  No problem, just a formality.

I bring my carry-on up to get the acceptance.

“I need to see your ticket,” the ticket agent informs me.  I give it to her.  “You are not authorized to have a carry-on for this flight,” she declares.

What???

“You purchased it through a third party and you’ll have to pay $50 for a normal (vs. personal) size carryon or check it.”  This was after already dishing out $25 for my suitcase.

“I’m not checking this carry-on!” I say, voice starting to rise. “I have a laptop and two expensive cameras in here!”

She leads me over to the sizing buckets to see if we can squeeze it into the “personal” space.  Nope.

“I’m not checking it!” I say, just to make sure they understand me.

People are starting to stare.

How small IS this airplane I thought to myself?  I’ve taken this carry-on on some pretty small aircraft, and it has never been a problem.

Another ticketing agent takes me aside and says, “I bet if you try to repack it, you could get it to fit.”  So I shift things around so that everything fits in – the fact that stuff was sticking out the top, way over the limit doesn’t seem to bother her.  “Yes! Perfect!” she says.

When I board the plane, I am flabbergasted – it was huge!  My bag slides easily in the overhead and would have fit under the seat if necessary.  Those idiots just wanted to take another $50 out of my hide!   Ha!  Not this time!

#hissyfitworks   #yousuckfrontier

LaVonne and Jane

After takeoff, I take out my laptop and start to write about this day.   You know, it being cathartic and all that.  I write two sentences and then start listening to the conversation of the two ladies next to me.  It’s not that I am eavesdropping, it’s just that they seemed to be having similar “travel problems” too.

Soon, the three of us are laughing up a storm and swapping stories like old friends.  LaVonne and Jane are cousins who grew up together and have been meeting for a girls’ getaway in Branson, Missouri (our destination) for the last nine years.

We are interrupted by the flight attendant who asks us if we want something to drink.  Except the only free drink is… water!  The three of us burst out laughing much to his dismay!  Seriously, Frontier, you have a problem!  Not even coffee or Coke?

LaVonne and Jane gave me lots of tips on things to do, and before I knew it, we were landing, and the frustrations of the day were forgotten.

All’s well that ends well.

BUT WAIT…

Three days later, leaving Branson, Missouri airport.  I am the ONLY person going through security in an almost empty airport.  You guessed it.

“You’re rayndom, young lady,” drawls the TSA agent.  “I need to swab your palms.”

Another of the infamous random TSA searches? Seriously, folks, I couldn’t make this up.

“This just happened a couple of days ago,” I protest.

“Wayllll, that’s a why they cawl it ‘rayndom,” is his only comment.

How many days can be like this?  Don’t answer that.

Related:

13 Things to Do in Branson, Missouri

21 Things to Do in Southern Indiana

On the Road for Donuts in South Dakota

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About the Author

Patti Morrow is a freelance travel writer and founder of the award-winning international blog Luggage and Lipstick and the southern travel blog Gone to Carolinas. TripAdvisor called her one of the “20 Baby Boomer Travel Bloggers Having More Fun Than Millennials” and she was named one of the “Top 35 Travel Blogs” in the world.

She is also the star of the upcoming TV series “Destination Takeover” which is scheduled to premiere in the next few months.

Patti is the author of the book “Girls Go Solo: Tips for Women Traveling Alone,” and has over 150 bylines in 40 print and online publications, including The Huffington Post, International Living Magazine, Washington Post Sunday Travel, Travel Girl, Travel Play Live Magazine, and Ladies Home Journal. She has traveled extensively through six continents looking for fabulous destinations, exotic beaches, and adventure activities for her Baby Boomer tribe.