but last night i decided i'd wasted enough time. new month, new attitude. i was determined to go.
the walk was definitely chilly, but i kept a good pace (3.6 mph, according to the pedometer on my iPhone) and it wasn't so bad taking an early morning walk in the bright sun with Shawn Colvin to keep me company on my iPod.
i arrived at the Social Security building to see a fairly long line stretching from the door half a block to the corner. inwardly i groaned and almost turned around to head to the subway—i hadn't expected a Manhattan-esque line and wasn't prepared to invest that much time on a workday morning.
but i decided to give it five minutes, see how it moved. about two minutes later, a security guard approached a young-ish guy in front of me and asked why he was there. the guy said, "i just need a new card." the guard told him he didn't have to wait, he could enter through the first door on his left. i looked at the security guard and said, "same!" and made a beeline for the door.
"thank god," i said to the guy in front of me, who laughed. this is actually going to work! i thought. it might even be easy!
HA.
just inside the door was a security checkpoint. the young-ish guy went first. he had to take off his coat, remove his belt and put both, along with his briefcase, through the x-ray machine. as he was going through this rigmarole i noticed a sign on the metal detector indicating items prohibited from entering the building. it was the usual—knives, box cutters, alcohol. there was also a second sign: absolutely no food or beverages allowed. this made me happy i hadn't stopped for the coffee i'd desperately wanted, but i did briefly consider the apple, container of almonds and Luna bar in my bag. surely they can't mean that, i told myself.
HA.
i turned my attention back to the young-ish guy, who was opening his briefcase for the guard, showing him the scissors that were in a sleek-looking pencil case inside. perhaps he was an architect, or a graphic designer. he probably needed those tools for work. but the guard was saying he could not under any circumstances enter the building with those on his person. also contraband: the sandwich he had in a plastic baggie secured with a twist tie.
that didn't bode well for me, but i hoped for the best. (perhaps it was the twist tie that was offensive.) as the young-ish guy discussed his options with the x-ray machine operator, i was told to put all my stuff on the conveyor belt and walk through the metal detector. i passed through without incident, but—dang it—my apple and almonds and Luna bar aroused the suspicions of the security team.
"you have to throw these out," the one guard told me, peering into my brown paper bag.
i said, "seriously?"
"yes. not allowed. throw them out."
"but almonds are expensive!" i tried. (hey—a 9.5 ounce container of raw almonds from Trader Joe's is $4.99. it's not cheap to eat healthfully.)
meanwhile, the young-ish guy was telling the guard to get rid of his sandwich. "just take it," he said, handing it over, and the guard dropped the perfectly good sandwich in the wastebasket. he also took the guy's scissors and dumped them in a plastic bin.
"will i get those back after i'm done?" the guy asked. the guard shook his head.
"those were really good scissors," the guy muttered to me.
"can i leave my food out here?" i asked the guards.
"yes, you can leave it on the street."
"like, ON the actual street? on the sidewalk?"
"yes. that's the only option."
before i could explain to them the ludicrousness of that plan, the guard who was still searching my bag came across my half-full eco-friendly imitation SIGG water bottle.
"is this water?" he asked me, shaking the bottle and something swish about. fearing he was going to take the bottle away from me, i said, "yes, but i can dump it out."
"no, no. water's allowed."
all right. let's regroup here for a second. my see-through plastic container of almonds, my Gala apple with the sticker still on it and my Luna breakfast bar for women—no good. my opaque, stainless steel bottle designed to hold liquids—perfectly OK.
i could've had anything in that bottle! flammables, poison, vodka, a rolled-up missive from Osama Bin Laden. the guard didn't even open it up, didn't make me take a sip from it (as i once had to do at Yankee Stadium) to prove its contents.
"can i just ask why?" i said to the guard. "what is the logic behind prohibiting food like this?"
"we don't make the rules," he told me, not unkindly. "it's Homeland Security."
ahh. of course. who else would be behind this but the department that oversees the TSA, which allowed a man with a bomb in his underpants aboard an international flight six weeks ago? that they screw up. but me—armed with nothing more than almonds and a desire to complete the process of legally becoming someone's wife—i have to give up my non-explosive organic sustenance.
a guard told me i could leave my food with the coffee cart operator across the street—he'd watch my stuff for me until i was done getting my new card.
"umm, yeah. i think i'll just come back tomorrow," i said.
i left the poor, scissor-and-sandwich-less young-ish guy at the security checkpoint and got the hell out of dodge. two hours later i'm still perplexed by the experience. people are allowed on airplanes with food. but not inside the Social Security office. right.
anyway, i'm going back tomorrow—i'm determined to cross this off my to-do list!—and i won't bring any food with me. but i think i may fill my water bottle with wine. just to mess with 'em.
mbm
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