Below is something I wrote about my recent experience at the Seattle Tacoma airport. Also, my LARP Flipping Politics still has room for a few more players. Its a game set on a space station where people with differing political views get together to try and find common ground.
I am the octopus surrounded by quadrupeds.
It felt odd to leave Seattle and Washington. I’d been there for less than a week, but it was a very surreal experience. People were friendly. Multiple times I went out to eat with people I had literally met 15 minutes earlier. That doesn’t happen in New England. Worldcon was wonderful, making me wonder if I should have tried harder to go to one sooner. So, I was rather melancholy getting off the train at the airport. I knew I wouldn’t have another chance to visit Seattle in what limited time I have left in this country.
I saw a couple in line for an Orca card and offered them mine saying, “I’ll never use it again.” They took it and thanked me. I told them, as I walked away, “I’m not sure how much is still on it, but at least $10.”
What a beautiful city that I’ll never be able to return to. I made my way to the ticketing line thinking about my future, the city’s future, and the country's future.
MLK weekend I had met a representative for Worldcon and asked them if it would be safe for me and my youngest to visit. She told me how Washington was a welcoming city and that the airport even had all gender bathrooms. I blew off the bathroom comment thinking, big deal, Boston’s airport has single stall all gender bathrooms. The thing was though, Seattle airport had multi-stall bathrooms, the kind I’ve been pushing for in my writing! My fiction is their reality, at least for now.
There was an older asian couple in front of me in line struggling to figure out their ticket situation with the agent. I was very early and happy to see they had a niece helping them.
Once I got my suitcase checked I headed to the bathroom to empty my water bottle (not a euphemism) and put any accessories that would be a problem for security into my backpack. My flight to Seattle should have been the first one where I didn’t have to take off my shoes for security but I was “randomly” selected to have my shoes go through the X-Ray machine.
My frequent flier experience kicked in as I approached Seattle’s security checkpoint. I got my laptop in a tray and my backpack onto the belt for the X-Ray. When it was my turn I took a breathe and stepped into the body scanner thinking, ‘here we go.’
When I was younger I used to like getting through security. I always felt safer on “the other side.” Security theatre was really ramped up by George W. Bush, but it wasn’t until a little before the pandemic I started to feel nervous about it.
Having a friend during that 30 minutes of security theater would have improved my safety, especially if I were to take center stage. My closest friend from church has a childhood friend in Seattle. Her friend just recovered from cancer. When I realized I was going to Seattle I asked her to go with me. I offered to share my hotel room and she could visit her friend while I was at the con. We even had a sleepover to see if we were able to tolerate sleeping in the same room together but ultimately she decided not to in fear of her medical issues. I’ve traveled with people that have severe disabilities before, but she also had a fear of traveling I couldn’t budge.
The woman operating the scanner said, “we’re going to need to pat you down. Do you want to do this in a private area?”
“No.” I needed any awfulness to be public. I needed witnesses.
“I’m calling my supervisor. I also need to run your shoes through the machine.”
I wish I could have said, `of course you do,’ but all I did was nod and hand her my shoes.
A male TSA agent joined her and said, “which of us would you prefer to pat you down.”
I pointed to her.
He said gruffly, “You need to pick one.”
I found my voice enough to say, “Her.”
She told me to watch for my stuff while she patted me down. Once she was done patting me down I went to retrieve my bag.
A female traveler took a tray and put it on my laptop just as I was reaching for it. She said, “Ooops, sorry.” I had to wait a bit for my shoes to make it through and then I could finally sit down, calm down, and get back to my airport rhythm.
No matter how early I am, I always head straight to the gate after I get through security. No food or bathroom breaks, just in case. Once I arrived at the gate and determined I had almost two hours I went in search of food. There were few options in the terminal for me. I asked the cashier at an Indian fast food restaurant if the vegetarian curry was dairy free. She replied, “I don’t know, I’m just a cashier.”
Ultimately, my best option ended up being a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bag of pickles. I am not a fan of peanut butter, but it was food. I hoped the pickles wouldn’t upset my stomach.
I found a counter with outlets. There weren’t any stools, but I had been sitting all day and was fine standing. I started charging my phone to make sure it would have enough charge for me to hail a Lyft after I landed. After I finished my food I pulled out my laptop to add to a scheduled Substack post. As I was typing a man walked towards me with an outstretched hand and asked, “Moriko?”
I reluctantly replied, “yes.”
“Hey, I’m Chris, I saw your panel at Worldcon.”
I shook his hand, wondering which of the 10 he was referring to.
He said, “I really enjoyed your panel.”
“Thank you.”
I told him I was updating my Substack. He nodded and sat down with his partner. I finished my update just as a young girl went skipping by laughing with her parents. I turned and smiled as did the woman standing to the left of me who I hadn’t noticed. We both smiled at each other over our apparent shared joy of children. She was probably early Gen X or late Boomer and she wore a red hat. I tried not to look too upset about the hat and turned back to my laptop. I slowly put everything back in my bag. My phone would have to be charged enough because I wasn’t going to keep standing there. I could see Chris and his partner a short walk away. They were engrossed in their phones so I just walked aimlessly for a bit. Had he seen who I was standing next to? Was the handshake a failed attempt at bystander intervention because I hadn’t paid enough attention to my surroundings? As I walked aimlessly about the airport noting that NOBODY else in the airport was wearing a red hat it made me wonder why she would be. The election was last year! Had she not seen the news? How did she feel about people like me or my kids? This side of security was supposed to be safe! Could I ask her about her hat? Could I be polite? Would she be polite? Would I make my flight or end up in handcuffs?
I am the octopus surrounded by quadrupeds.