My mind was miles away as I watched the bags moving round on the airport carousel. I was delighted to finally be home. I had been away for 8 weeks and while I love Cape Town, I had grown tired of the constant rain.
I was jolted out of my daze by an elderly lady, she must have been in her eighties, jumping and gesturing at a large black bag.
‘I’m telling you, that bag is definitely moving!’
Two security guards had joined the lady, and all the passengers on flight SAA 625, were now animatedly watching the shuddering bag move round the carousel.
Oh no, you can’t be serious. The blood drained from my entire body.
‘It’s fine, don’t worry it’s mine.’
I grab the shaking bag as it passes.
The little old lady is having none of that.
‘No my girlie, let security take a look, you never know, it could be a bomb.’
Early nineties in South Africa, apartheid was crawling to close; but people were still permanently hysterical and shuddering bags definitely meant a terrorist threat.
‘I’m sure it’s just my camera, it must have switched on in my bag.’
My camera? Was that the best I could do? When last did a camera vibrate? Well I was panicking and it was the first thing that came into my head.
The burlier of the two security guards steps between me and my shuddering bag. ‘Sorry lady, we need to check the bag. It’s for your own safety.’
‘Thanks so much sir, really, it’s all under control.’
I mean did he seriously not get it?
I watch as my bag, still gently shuddering, is pulled off the carousel. I trot helplessly behind.
The security guard stops a few paces away and drops the bag to the floor.
What happened to a secure closed room?
The old bat is still twittering excitedly, if she was so convinced it was a bomb, why doesn’t she run for cover?
The rest of flight 625 are craning their necks…. Are they waiting to see a puff of smoke coming out of my bag? Perhaps they are expecting the Ghost Busters to pop out? Will it be Superman to the rescue?
Okay, this is my last chance…
‘It’s my electric toothbrush!’
Ah man, too loud too desperate… too late! And it was the early nineties, only dentists had such things.
I watch as the zip of the bag is eased open. The offending object is neatly wrapped in an old pillowcase, right at the top of my luggage.
What followed was a slow motion sequence out of a Scorsese movie.
The dark blue pillowcase is unfolded… a security guards hairy thick fingers plunge into the pillowcase… someone shouts ‘Stand back’ …a blonde haired man pushes through the gathering crowd to get a better view…the little old lady lets out a shriek…
…and finally as if holding a trophy, the hairy hand reveals an ivory coloured penis shaped object, buzzing ever slower as the batteries run down.
‘What is it?’ I hear from a voice in the gathered crowd.
I see the blonde man smirk and wander off.
A frumpy looking middle-aged woman glares at me; I’m sensing disgust.
At least ten travellers remain motionless and silent; I’m sensing bewilderment.
I slowly pry the hard plastic vibrating object from the hairy hand and turn the dial to off.
The little old lady lays a frail hand on my arm, ‘That thing could have landed up in your home, just as well I spotted your bag vibrating!’
I give a weak smile, there are simply no words.
The security guard looks perplexed. He is unsure of what just went down but senses the incident, whatever it may have been, is over.
‘You take full responsibility for this object? You packed it in your luggage?’
I nod sagely.
Massager, that’s it, why didn’t I shout ‘back massager?’
I place said object back into the pillowcase.
Still people stand, gaping, not moving away.
What is wrong with them, why won’t they politely disperse sniggering behind their hands? Admittedly this particular toy did not look THAT much like a penis, but still, seven inches, thickish, cucumber shaped vibrating object…any guesses?
I pop the offending item back in my bag and zip it closed.
It’s very heavy, the bag not the object, and hoist it onto my shoulder.
Notes to self –
