I still listen to American news, so, of course, I have heard about the woes of TSA lines. I don't think I would have the patience these days. It does remind me, however, of the very early days of the TSA in 2001 and a baby domme taking her first trip to NYC a few weeks after September 11.

The time in NYC with Simone Justice was magical, and I obviously decided to move there, but this is about the TSA.

It was less than a month after the tragedy and the rules were wild and all over the place. They didn't really make sense, but we were all trying to figure it out. In early November 2001 the rules at JFK were such that all checked baggage was scanned and anything that looked like a weapon was confiscated--yes carry on and checked luggage. People ahead of me were losing kitchen wear and even nail clippers.

As the line slowly moved, panic choked my breathing. I had been so excited to visit NYC for the first time I had two large suitcases with every kinky toy I owned. At the time both were straining at the seams because I had also spent almost all my session earnings on wondrous new toys from Purple Passion and Demask. Naturally when my suitcases went through the X-Ray scanners they were flagged and I had to step aside.

I was busy making peace with all the toys I was about to lose as the agent unzipped my suitcase. The overstuffed case nearly burst as my platform shoes, a cane, a flogger, a whip and some clamps tumbled onto the ground. I tried not to watch as the agent rooted around my luggage, knowing there was far more perverted items inside.

To my surprise he picked up the shoes and implements and gently tucked them under my PVC catsuit.

"You're all set. Have a nice flight, Mistress." He said so matter of factly, not a single person noticed in all the chaos.

I did have a restful flight after that.

I sure would like to thank that person for a little kindness in that chaos. And, well, he should apologize to my friends in LA, because I was pretty full of myself for weeks after that.