neighborly

thirty two - tsa scares me

Ive never been to Mexico.

I mean I wish I had, but the most i've been to is probably some drink around the world thing in some frat backyard.

Should we count it?

I relay this question to the women I am standing next to in the TSA line where they are half convinced that my five foot ass, with my blonde hair and fake tan is the next world class criminal.

In response to my question, she cuts the guy in front of us with a murmur of curses.

As I step into what is only properly classified as death row I glance down at my shoes, Ohhhh fuck.

My high top laced up boots were too much to fit into my suitcase, so you know .. I just decided to wear them. All laced up with its 50 different ties.

A decison I truly regret as the TSA man yells into my ear, "NEXT, TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES, WRISTS WATCHES, BELTS, SWEATSHIRTS."

"You know if you want me to strip, I usually charge for that." I tell him as I hop trying to unlace my boots.

"KEEP IT MOVING." He yells at me, but I swear to god my boots aren't budging.

"Yeah, just give me a second." I say quietly scrambling to tug these god forbid shoes off, and he continues to yell, "TAKE THE SHOES OFF."

I tug at one of the laces it comes off, "KEEP IT MOVING."

"YOUR HOLDING UP THE LINE." Two more laces.

Much to his dismay, I literally proceed to sit down and force them off my feet, "Just give me-"

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? GET THE SHOES OFF."

I break, "IM LITERALLY FUCKING TRYING GIVE ME A SECOND, MY GOD."

"JUST." The man yelling at me comes around, and squats down next to me, still yelling, "WHY WOULD YOU WEAR THESE?"

Um sir, that is none of your business I almost say, but the tears are welling up in my eyes.

"Yo, give her a second bro." Someone says behind me, "Ill go."

I move out of the way, so my literal savior can pass through, as the guy goes forward dropping his stuff, but instead of proceeding on, spins around and squats down next to me.

"It'll go quicker if we both work on them." He says, and I nod my eyes flooding with tears.

"Thank you." I choke out, "Im sorry, i'm not actually upset, the tears are stress tears."

The guy laughs as he unlaces my left shoes speedily, "But really, what were you thinking with these shoes."

"Lets just say the didnt fit very well in my suitcase." My tears fade and I move turning to look at the apparently extremely cute guy, and my cheeks redden. He had dark black hair, flushed cheeks and dark brown eyes that were focused on untying my shoes, his bottom lip twisted in focus.

He finishes and holds out his arm to help me up, I take it kindly, "Thank you seriously, I almost had a heart attack."

He laughs, "No problem, im Leo."

"Liliana, and again, genuinely thank you." I smile at him as I scoop my now unlaced shoes from off the ground.

"My pleasure." Leo responds, and I slightly chuckle, "Damn, work at Chick-Fill-a with all these manners."

"If you're saying so, I might have to fill out an application."

To this, I genuinely laugh out loud, before containing myself. I pull my sweatshirt over my head, toss it loosely into the bin and throw in those god-forsaken shoes.