Gas Shoe

I'm not sure what I was thinking of, but as I was refueling my rental car outside of Bradley International Airport, the gas suddenly poured out of the car, onto the ground, and onto my shoe. I never believe that the first "click" of the gas pump means that the tank is truly full, so I always go a couple of clicks beyond the first one. On this day, I went one click too far.

I return my rental car, and catch the bus back to the terminal. All through the bus ride, I keep smelling the odor of gas. I take off my shoe and take a big whiff - yep, that's gas all right.

Now I'm faced with a dilemma: how am I going to get through airport security with a shoe soaked in gasoline? Didn't some terrorist try to blow up a plane by lighting his shoes on fire? (Yes, this guy tried it in 2001)

Before I go through security, I stop by the men's room to try to clean off my shoe. Not surprisingly, cheap airport paper towels get shredded as I scrub them on my shoe. I consider setting my shoe on fire to burn away the gas. Unfortunately, I have no matches.

You know how there seem to be cops everywhere when you know you've done something wrong? It's all true... I've never seen so many police officers patrolling a airport. Who would ever want to do harm to Hartford, Connecticut, the insurance capital of the world??!

I decide to take my chances and go through security. I show my boarding pass and ID, and make it pass the first hurdle. The security area has one of those special detectors that see if you have any explosive materials on your body. Luckily, I am not diverted to that line. By now, I'm starting to break out into a cold sweat. At the other side of the security checkpoint, a cop and a police dog are waiting. I suspect that the dog has been specially trained to sniff out and attack anything that explodes or is remotely flammable.

I get to the conveyor belt, and take off my shoes and belt, and put it into a gray plastic bin. I remove my laptop from my bag, and put it into another bin. I push everything along the conveyor towards the x-ray machine...

A TSA officer comes by and takes my shoes out of my bin. Oh shit!!!

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It turns out that the TSA person just wanted to put my shoes directly on the conveyor belt. She didn't even flinch at the gas smell that was coming from my shoe. Maybe it wasn't that bad at all. The attack dog didn't even look my way; I think it was someone's family dog that they bring to the airport so the kids can pet it.

Thank goodness for the TSA. I feel so safe.