My Son, The Terrorist

As many of you may know, Cory went to Massachusetts last week to attend a funeral. As you also know, his departure from Dulles International was (to put it mildly) eventful. It only got better from where I left off and I’ll let Cory describe the sequence of events that followed….

So I get my ticket from JetBlue, I go on through security and screening, no problem. They looked at my ticket and my ID and let we walk on by. I get on the plane. Everything was fine. Then over the intercom a person says that there is a discrepancy on the flight, and asked if everyone can produce their ticket stubs and IDs. So I figure what the hell, they asked and I’ll do it because I’m not doing anything wrong.

As I looked at my ticket stub I realized that it said “Bryan, Carey”. Now I was thinking to myself “I’m not Bryan, Carey” so as the flight attendant (or whomever the guy was) was checking tickets and IDs I sort of motioned to him and said “Sir, I may have the solution to your problem after all the person sitting next to me was the actual Bryan, Carey.”

Okay, we’ve set it up. Let’s see how the real professionals dealt with this.

I show him the ticket stub as well as my ID. He then asks me to come with him. I get up and follow him off the plane where I was handcuffed and taken to a small room. There I was questioned…

(Not verbatim but close enough)

Officer: Why do you have the wrong ticket?

Me: I don’t know, why don’t you ask JetBlue, They gave it to me.

Officer: How did you get through security?

Me: I don’t know, I walked through… I handed them my ticket. They looked at it, gave it back to me and said ‘enjoy your flight’.

Officer: What was that commotion about this morning? Why are you so eager to get on this flight? Are you some kind of terrorist or something?

Whoa. I would sincerely hope that there wasn’t an attempt to show us as someone at JetBlue ratted us out because we had the nerve to comment on their tardiness by an hour.

(This is where I get really pissed and condescending)

Me: Excuse me, I work for the government. I pay my taxes which pay your salaries.

Officer: How do we know you are who you say you are? From the looks of your ID it says that you are only 20 years old, so how the hell do you work for the government?

Me: Umm, I work at the Capitol Building.

Officer: Oh really, then prove it. If you can.

Me: What are you, five? If you take off the cuffs, I’ll reach into my jacket pocket and show you my badge.

Officer: No you sit there, I’ll get it. What pocket?

Me: Uhh, right inside pocket…

(He precedes to look for my badge and when he finds it, things quickly change.)

Officer: Oh Mr. Parks, I am very sorry for this. We had to be safe. Is there anything I can do for you, to make your trip more convenient for you.

Me: Uh huh…. Right…. Yeah, you can get me coffee.

Officer: How do you take that, sir?

Me: You can walk down to Dunkin Donuts and get me a medium French Vanilla Coffee, Extra-Extra.

(Five minutes Later)

Officer: Here you go sir. Is there anything else we can do for you sir?

Me: Well, do you want me to go to the bathroom and take off my underwear to show you that there is no bomb in there? Last time I checked, my name is very simple. Corwin Parks. Not Corwin Ahmadinejad Talib Parks? No, it’s not! Now, I’m all for profiling, but do not sit here and accuse me of being a terrorist without asking real questions and getting the facts. Do not detain me without cause, and question me without legal representation. I am not on any terrorist watch list, so therefore I have the right to my Miranda Rights. I am a Republican and I work for the government. I work hard to get the news out about terrorism and fight them and those who give them a break. So do not put me in the same category as them. Do not ever.

Officer: Sir, we do not need the sarcasm or the hostility.

Me: With all do respect, (or lack there of) I think you are entitled to some sarcasm and some hostility after this whole debacle. Quite frankly, at this point I don’t care what you think you need from me.

Officer: Okay Mr. Parks, you are free to go.

Me: What?!?! That’s it. You are going to escort me back onto the plane. I would like you to escort me back to my seat and apologize to me in front of everyone on the plane, because has been quite embarrassing and very excessive. If I am not mistaken, my rights were in fact violated.

They did just that. I was escorted back to my seat, where I was apologized to. I was wicked pissed. But to be honest, it’s more funny than anything to be pissed at.

Our tax dollars at work.