The TSA, and Bedbugs, and Intruders....Oh My!

A husband says to his wife, “Did you have a weapon?” What year is it:

A)      1819

B)      1864

C)      2011

D)     Any of the above

The correct answer is D, Any of the above.  Let’s explore!  In 1819, women needed to protect themselves and their children from Indians or wild animals while their husbands rode into town to procure supplies for the winter. 

 In 1864, the civil war raged on and southern women needed protection from marauding Yankee soldiers burning their way through to Savannah.    "As God is my witness....I'll never be hungry again" - Scarlett O'Hara.

And in 2011, American values are quickly fading, and fear of personal harm exists at every turn.  In 2011, Children are taught “stranger, danger” and most kids don’t get to ride their bikes more than three blocks away from the house.  Women take self-defense classes and tightly clench cans of mace while jogging through the park.  As for me?  Well, I am usually armed in some way or another – strict orders from Sergeant Major husband.   I’ve got it all – including the million volt stun gun/flashlight combo.  Usually I am armed…but not yesterday.  Yesterday my cute little carry-on bag and I boarded a plane to San Francisco.  No checked luggage because Delta charges extra for that now, and I am on a budget.  TSA prohibits me from carrying onto a plane anything with a sharp point or a trigger.   Not a bad rule, but it should only have to apply to the bad guys.  Oh, right, the bad guys sometimes LOOK like the good guys.  Truth be told, I think the TSA are the bad guys – anyone who yells at the old man in the WWII Veteran’s hat, or pats down little kids in a search for weapons of mass destruction is either too stupid or too hateful to be responsible for national security.  Atlanta TSA, Phhhhhbbbttt!!!!!!!!!

Upon arrival in California, I check into my hotel, scan the mattress for bed bugs (I know, but you have to check the beds now because of the rampant infestation that is sweeping across America), and lock the door.  I thought I also checked the lock on the door to the adjoining room, however, at around midnight, I am no longer certain that I checked that door.  Why?  Because I am jarred out of my deep sleep by a scraping mechanical sound, as my next door neighbor unlocks the adjoining room door and bolts into my room.  WHAT?  You can’t do that!  I don’t really remember what happened next because I can’t see without my glasses, and my body was overtaken by a tsunami of adrenaline.   What I think happened next is that I embraced my inner Linda Blair and screamed at the top of my lungs, “GEEEEEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOOUT” .  Amityville Horror meets San Ramon Marriott. 

If the perpetrator was indeed meaning for my calamity, they changed their mind pretty quickly and pulled the door shut.  If the intruder was a confused hotel guest who somehow just managed to open the wrong door, well, I’m sorry but I am pretty sure they are dead, of fright.  Hotel security came and got me a few minutes later to escort me to a safer room.  Amazingly I was able to get back to sleep and arise fresh for my meeting the next day. 

So my answer to the question of, “did you have a weapon?” was, “no”, and Sergeant Major husband has a special one-on-one class planned for me this weekend.  It’s called, “how to turn a drinking glass into a weapon in three seconds or less”.  Oh My!