Danger Man

Where do you stand on the topic of searching bags at public checkpoints? I think it violates my inalienable rights. Particularly when I’m NOT chosen to have my bag searched. Then it violates my inalienable right to be considered mysterious and dangerous.

You see, it started all the way back in High School. All the girls I would ask out on dates would explain that I was just not mysterious or dangerous enough for anything other than copying my homework. And then they would walk away giggling.

But that’s not really the point.

The real point is that I have the kind of face that does not inspire fear in anybody. Or small dogs. Or even rodents. And it’s not that I don’t try to APPEAR mysterious and dangerous. I pull my collar up. I pull my hat down low. I shift my eyes back and forth. I make darty movements with my body.

Giggles. Even from the rodents.

There’s a team of anti-terrorist police officers at my train stop. They routinely pull people over to a table and search their bags with a variety of nifty, electronic, anti-terrorist gizmos. For weeks I walk by, engaging in my mysterious and dangerous routine (see above), desperately clinging to the hope that the officers will consider me worthy of their concern.

Nothing.

Except giggles.

I once darted right up to the team and told them that searching my bag would be a serious matter of national security. They told me that they would have to take a rain check because it was time for their coffee break.

I didn’t think that MYSTERY and DANGER took a break, but maybe they belong to a powerful union.