To one side please madam . . .

On occasion I have to travel as part of my J. O. B. (a topic that has never featured on this blog, I do have to work for a living unfortunately- still working on my money trees idea though).

An early morning flight to Birmingham International airport leaves me shattered by the time I get back about 10pm that night. But regardless of the time of day, lack of sleep and longing for my nice warm bed, a little bit of my brain doesn't ever switch off.

It's what I think is responsible for my ability to laugh at the ridiculous.

It is also responsible for activating my mouth without ever engaging my brain until my ears have heard what has been said out loud and then it can be a case of serious back peddling.

Back to the airport, and this particular journey in February 2012.

I inevitability get pulled to the side and asked to remove shoes, belt, jacket etc. As if I am somehow as a result of the long wait going to end it all with my accessories. Like technology when it fails the sight of a long security queue can take me to the edge of reason.

Unfortunately I still somehow manage to set the alarms off. So off to one side I go and ready to assume the scarecrow position for the hand held metal detector. On my way though the burly security guard raises one eyebrow and looks pointedly at my feet with a "Oh dear, could have made more of an effort"

He would have been referring to my odd socks. I was pre caffeine and had been up since 4.30am at this stage and literally had to bite my tongue from saying something quite rude and sarcastic; my brain engaging just slightly faster than my tongue.

The female security guard them approached with her scanner and started her sweep as I assumed the position. On her knees scanning the odd socks she asked my what I did for a living. An innocent enough question but the way it was delivered surprised me and left me thinking that they were taking the security screening processes to new levels.

I responded with a very vague, slow response incase it was clearly going to get me into trouble, it was something like "I work for a bank".  I was pretty satisfied with a safe and truthful response. Terrified of what could follow. Depending on the institution was I about to be taken out to a private room and strip searched I had no idea. This woman was taking her job very seriously, next time I fly I'm going to have to pack a CV just to get to Birmingham.

Might take the train the next time.

She then seemed to relaxed and followed up with "I'm always just a bit curious about the jobs people do that see them flying so early on a Friday morning"

With that I breathed I disappointed sigh of relief.

Not disappointed that I wasn't going to be take to The Other Room for further interogation. But that I didn't let my mouth run away with me and say that I was something more interesting.

An international taxidermist on my way to a photo shoot in Paris. . .

The possibilities were endless.









P.S. As a remedy to my previous blog I am officially booked into The Scotsman with a friend for a mid week act of truancy.