Trouble

On Tuesday morning I considered ‘Why do I attract trouble?’ A colleague had once said to me that I am a larger and life character. “Not your weight” he added, “but the way things happen around you.” Flying out from Gatwick I had endured the lengthy frisking in full public view because no one had listed to me when I insisted that I should remove my belt. I am not a poor communicator; in fact I am pretty good. I have presented high level work covering complex matters. So why didn’t anyone listen? Is it my clothing size, my casual dress, or is it the short cropped hair? Okay, my hair is short, but it’s only a number 2 and most people shave to number 1. I speak reasonably eloquently. During my time in Ghana, I was mistaken as English by an English friend of Jeff’s. I smell good, and I wash frequently, so why do I attract trouble?

“Good morning sir,” always an ominous start. “You are in the green lane.” I wasn’t sure where I was, I was simply trying to get out of this nightmarish airport with its endless corridors and poor signage. “Do you know that you are in the green lane Sir?” delivered with a hint of sarcasm. “No, I thought that it was the exit, everything looks the same around here and I was lost.” An honest answer, delivered quickly and without hesitation. The man had followed me from when I had entered his green lane, I wondered why. Maybe he wanted company I had thought. “Did you pack these bags yourself sir?” “Of course I did, why would I want someone else to pack my bags, they might put the wrong things inside” I replied. “Are you carrying anything inside that was handed to you by someone else?” A simple question and I suspect that he was hoping that I would say no. “Of course I am. I have gifts from my friends and three envelopes to post when I get home.” Ah ha, a weakness in my response. “So you accepted envelopes, what size are they?” I knew where this was going, and I had to humour him but I truly wished that he would keep up as I was feeling unwell and too tired to play games. “They are average size.” A classic answer as how can you define average. What I could have said is that all three fit the British Post Office defined sizes and thicknesses for the classification of a small envelope as defined in the Postal changes of 2007. But maybe he would have thought that I was a smart arse, and after all some of them had guns. They were not visible, but I am not stupid. “What thickness are these envelopes?” he continued. “Normal thickness” I replied. This was going nowhere, so I added “I am not stupid, they are average sized envelopes of normal thickness, if I was suspicious of anything I would have refused to carry them. I would never carry other people’s bags or belongings and I understand the need to be cautious when travelling.” At last, an answer that drew the conversation to a close. “Thank you, you can go” he concluded.

On the way to Ghana I had felt like a terrorist. Frisked in public view because no one had listened and the metal detector, detected what I knew it would detect. On my way back, I felt like a drug baron. The only saving grace; was like the metal detector, both interrogators were only doing their job. I only hope that the same rules apply on the planes to and from other destinations. I would hate to think that it was an African thing.