All-in or hands off

I returned from New York on Monday. My method of travel was airplane, and, as usual, security was a major responsibility of the TSA. Everyone needs to be safe, so guidelines must be followed.

The running joke between those in my circle and myself is that there must be a note on my forehead that says to pull me over and pat me down. I mean, just about every single time, I'm among the "random" souls told to step over to the side. At that point, someone usually subjects me to an examination -- checking me for this and that for who knows what. The other scenario is when an agent asks if I want her to take me to a room so she can examine me privately. "Um, no, thank you! Do what you gotta do -- right here."

If I don't get the pat-down just for being ... what, cute? I get it because my body has set off the security apparatus. They usually determine that something in the area of my midsection is the culprit.

"Anything in your pocket?"

"No, sir."

"Wearing a belt?"

"No, sir."

I've started to wonder if I swallowed a penny when I was a kid. If so, my mom doesn't know about it; I asked.

In any case, the mandatory feel-around follows the questioning.

This isn't far-fetched. It's standard whenever I fly. As I said, it's become a joke -- an ongoing one -- because it has happened repeatedly.

Look, I have no complaints about taking security measures. I want to be safe. If that means people have to be made reasonably uncomfortable, well, they just have to be. Call it "taking one for the team."

What I don't appreciate, however, is something else I've experienced: I personally get the pullover, pat-down, press and pull treatment, in addition to the procedure everyone gets: shoes off, electronics out, liquids up on the tray. This went down on the front end of my New York trip. Then shortly after "crossing over to the other side," I realized when I managed to get out of pat-down prison that the agents totally missed that I had failed to reveal some liquid -- inadvertently, of course. In this most recent case, it was a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Now, you and I know I didn't have anything in there meant to cause harm. But they didn't know that, right? While they're feeling on this body, looking through her shoes and packing up (to take home!) her confiscated hair gel, the liquid stuff they're supposed to be on the lookout for gets through. Every person in every job has been guilty of blowing it. A TSA employee is no exception. And this would be fine if blowing it didn't create the opportunity for someone to blow us all up.

Far-fetched? Maybe. But maybe not. We really don't know -- and isn't that the point?

Again, I have zero problem with anyone doing anything that common sense dictates will keep us safe; I'll readily submit to it. But I do have a problem with the pretense of keeping people safe while overlooking the simplest of steps. If you're going to push the "thorough" narrative, be thorough. If you're not going to be thorough, keep your hands off my thigh.

Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member.