You preach/We laugh

In which we come up with our own (slightly cynical) version of Muni's new ad campaign

As we dumped the entire contents of our billfold onto the ticket counter, we unearthed a tatty, 10th-grade identification card from Richard Montgomery High School (Rockville, Md.) that we keep solely to show unbelievers that during our Slayer phase we had grown our hair to mid-back length. The picture is nine years old, our name is penned in our own hand, and our hair is two feet shorter today. In the Age of Ashcroft, this looked like a one-way ticket to an airport hotel.

But the heavens worked their magic, and the 10th-grade ID not only whisked us through America West's check-in, but also past the security checkpoint and aboard the great Oakland-bound chariot in the sky. Traveling with two bona fide babes certainly eased our passage, and we remained uncharacteristically quiet so as not to redirect the attentions of airport personnel from our companions' bosoms to our questionable ID.

America West spokeswoman Amber Heule called our experience "interesting" and, in a refreshing burst of contriteness, agreed that her airline and the contractors hired to check ID at the security gate should not have accepted a nine-year-old Slayer high school ID. And where was the much-ballyhooed Transportation Security Administration to defend America against such squirrelly travelers as us? TSA spokeswoman Suzanne Luber said it's not her agency's job to check IDs; that's an airline function.

So huzzah for high schools, and their obsession with photo IDs! And huzzah for Las Vegas, and the expansion of gambling from the casinos to airport security!
-- M.J.F. Stewart

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