An Email from Ricardo...

Today I found out what it was like to get on an airplane without a government-issued photo ID. The results may surprise you. Today, I arrived in Washington National for my flight to Chicago, where I'll be spending the week doing research and giving a lecture. I checked my bag and opened my wallet to get out my driver's license and - lo and behold! - there was no license staring at me through the little plastic window. The only photo ID I had was my University ID.

You see, last week the family and I flew back from Chicago, and I must have stuck my driver's license into my pocket without actually replacing it in my wallet. Upon arriving home, I emptied my pockets as I always do, and I'm sure I put my driver's license in a good place. I ALWAYS put things in a good place. And sometimes the cleaning lady finds them and puts them in an even better place. Well, apparently, my driver's license remained in that place, whatever it was, after my arrival. Ignorant of this fact, I conducted my life as usual, including driving an automobile around town and all the way to DC. I even played my little part in the SAAB-key fiasco of earlier this week. The horrifying truth did not reveal itself to me until I was standing there at the American Airlines ticket counter.

"Please take your bag down," the counter attendant told me. Was she sending me home to get my license? I was ready to protest, "No, you see, I live in Charlottesville, which is far away, and I can't go home without a license, and my wife will laugh at me mercilessly because of this thing that happened with the SAAB key earlier this week." Should I weep? Should I beg? And then I saw that my bag was actually checked. There was the sticker that clearly said "ORD." Were they going to send my bag without me as punishment? Incredibly, the lady handed me a boarding pass, and my UVA ID, and told me that I would be subjected to "special screening" at security.

Gulp. I had thought of spending sometime browsing in the lovely shops, but then I realized that special screening might be time-consuming, and that I might not even make my flight. I approached the guy who checks ID's with trepidation, handing him my boarding pass and UVA ID.

"Don't you have a government-issued ID?" he asked, with a marked note of incredulity in his voice.

"No, just this" I answered sheepishly, pointing at my pathetic little university ID. I thought of mentioning the fact that UVA is a state agency, and that my UVA ID is therefore, technically speaking, a government-issued photo ID, but then I thought that it's best not to argue with TSA.

"Well, you've been selected by the airline for special screening," he added, pointing me into the security line. I nodded, and approached the line, taking off my shoes and taking out my laptop . . .

The person at the metal detector looked at my boarding pass and told me that I'd been selected for special screening. She sent me to stand in this glass corridor with a door at the end. The man at the x-ray machine gathered my stuff and came to get me. This is what I expected would happen:

The door would open and I would be escorted to a special room where I would have to fill out forms and answer many questions. I would have to take oaths and sign sworn affidavits. I would have to remove clothing, perhaps all of it. I would be subjected to a full body-cavity search. I would be sent out into the terminal with a duncecap and a cowbell, a placard around my neck saying "Tried board an aircraft without a government-issued photo ID." The TSA people would be mean and laugh at me. The other passengers would stare with mocking contempt. Someone would trip me on purpose. Others would throw things. I would board the aircraft humiliated, consigned to a middle seat, denied my beverage, and forbidden from using any electronic devices throughout the flight.

What actually happened:

They took me to that special area they have to run my bags through the "will-it-blow-up" test, and to pat me down. That was it. They weren't even mean! I was treated nicely, and told to have a good flight. Now I'm sitting at the gate, completely indistinguishable from the other passengers, the ones who brought their government-issued photo ID. Nobody knows!!! No one is staring! The woman across from me has a styrofoam cup that she could hurl at me, but she's not even thinking about it. I'm typing on my laptop, and looking forward to my aisle seat.

But I'm going to beg Zoe to look for my driver's license and mail it to me. I'm not taking any chances with security at O'Hare. I bet THEY have duncecaps and cowbells.

So, sweetie, would you mind?! Please!?!?! Glorificus, will you do your base and humble servant this small favor, so that he may return to grovel before you!?!!?

Love you,

Ricky