On my way back from San Fransisco to Canada, I was selected for a thorough security check. After my purse, belt, shoes and laptop had been x-rayed, a young-ish looking man came over and told me to enter a Star Trek Enterprise type cubicle, while he went to check the files on my laptop. I walked into this machine, placed my feet on the indicated spot and waited, not knowing what was about to happen. Then, POOF. Some fifteen valves burst gusts of air at my body, covering every inch. I froze for a split second, before my entire body began throbbing from the heavy pounding of my heart. What the fuck just happened?!
I stepped forward and exited the machine. I looked over at the guy, who was now closing my laptop, and decided to play dumb. He looked easy enough.
"Oh my god! Wow. What just happened in there?" I said with an exaggerated but friendly-enough expression of shock.
"Oh that? That's just to detect if you've been around any explosives recently."
"Really?" I said all wide-eyed. I gave him a smile that he liked. "So, this happens randomly right, the check?"
"Oh no miss. This wasn't random. It was indicated on your boarding pass," he said, smiling nervously.
My sweet smile shifted into a tight-lipped smirk. Now I always thought these checks were anything but random, but to actually hear this guy validate that assumption was another thing. Almost comical, in a disturbing way. I began to collect my things.
"So what were you doing here? Visiting your boyfriend?"
"Stop flirting with the passengers!" joked another airport security guy from across the way.
I grabbed my bags. Put my shoes back on. Fastened my belt buckle. And walked away, irritated but relieved: at least I wasn't strip searched.