Missing Soles at the Airport

I recently pondered the unthinkable: to defiantly pass through security with my shoes firmly on my feet. Yep, for a brief moment, I swore to myself it would take a house falling on me to remove my ruby red slippers—or natty brown boots as the case may be.
Had I been sporting Birkenstocks, loafers or flip-flops, I would have gladly slid my footwear off and tossed it into the tub for a quick trip through security.
But this was different; I was wearing dress boots that required a shoehorn, unbuckling and a twenty-mule team to remove properly. Add to that the image of my spud-like toes poking through sock holes the size of manhole covers, and I was ready to spin on my half-inch heel and call off the trip.
Even though my soles were as thin as saltines, the TSA agent (or shoe sheriff as I like to think) said it didn't matter, that all shoes had to be removed. My pointing out that I was wearing boots did not amuse her in the least. (Lucky for me she wasn't packing heat.)
Bending over hopping on one foot, my checkpoint cha-cha-cha and brazen toe exposure brought some comic relief to my fellow line holders. Look Mommy, big man hopping. My composure and self-respect were nowhere to be found; I believe they each hitched a ride with my footwear tub to the other side, the safer side. We met up later at the gate.
On my return trip, I still bristled when I saw the taunting sign that stated all shoes must be removed, but this time I was prepared. I wore new socks and old loafers (with very poor arch support I might add). I was a rebel in Weejuns, brandishing footwear that took mere seconds to kick off and plop into an x-ray tub. I laughed as if it was no inconvenience at all. (We all protest in our own different ways.)
As a traveler I've learned to pick my battles. There is no victory to be had here, even pouting holds little gratification anymore. The whole shoe removal dance really exposes more than one's bare tootsies. To me it's a constant and odd reminder that air travel will never really be the same, and perhaps that's what I'm wrestling with, not my snug-fitting boots.
Have a question for Tom?
Tom Conway, who reminds all that shoe removal and weak pant seams can be an ill-fated pairing, looks forward to your questions, comments and/or tips.


