Sari of Mass Destruction 

It’s not the subway but it is part of the New York City transportation system.

 

I went to visit Lady Liberty with my son and two other families with kids recently. The park where the ferry left from was pretty crowded with tourists. The line to get on the ferry was long enough to keep us standing and moving, standing and moving, for one hour and fifteen minutes.

 

By the time we entered the dock house, finally getting out of the sun, we saw what was holding things up. There were four lines of airport-like security stations complete with X-rays for baggage and walk-through metal detectors that we, the masses, were being funneled through.

 

Ahead of us an Indian family–women in colored sari’s, men in slacks and dress shirts–passed through the detectors. An alarm went off on the grandmother, probably in her 70s, wearing a bright orange sari. Two police officers came over and searched her with wands.

 

I can still see her standing there, arms held out wide, legs spread like she was in the middle of a jumping jack, chin lifted and composed, as they checked her from top to bottom.

 

Now here’s the thing. If you know what a sari looks like you know there aren’t a lot of places to hide a weapon. Maybe I’m being naïve. Perhaps because she was elderly, my internal “terrorist” alarm didn’t go off. Or perhaps it was the bright orange sari and the sight of all that bare skin. She went her way with her family.

 

My bag, which had two metal water bottles in it, passed through the machine without a second look from the officer, or a single ring from the alarm.

 

Go figure.

 

–Joe Lunievicz