Thank You For Flying Babyface Airlines

, , , , | Working | September 2, 2020

I’m twenty-four and I’ve been told I have a babyface. I’m at the airport with family; we’re flying out for vacation. There are two security lines: one for those sixteen and over and one for those under sixteen. I hand the TSA agents my driver’s license, which clearly states my birthdate. They point me to the over-sixteen security line, where the rest of my family already is. I’m approached by another TSA agent.

Agent #1: “Can I see your ID?”

Me: “Sure.”

I pull it out and show her. In Illinois, your license is vertical if you’re under twenty-one. Mine is horizontal. Since we haven’t left Illinois yet, this should be a dead giveaway that I’m an adult.

Agent #1: “Oh, sweetie, you don’t have to wait in this line.”

Me: “I don’t?”

Agent #1: “You can go to the other line.”

She points to the under-sixteen line.

Me: “Oh, ma’am, I think you’re mistaken. I’m not—”

Agent #1: “No, no. Come on over here. You don’t need to be in the adult line.”

She quite literally guides me to the under-sixteen line.

Me: “Well, if you say so.”

I shrug and head through the kids’ security check, with my family giggling in the main security line. There’s another agent at the end of the kids’ check. He asks for my ID. I hand it over. He raises an eyebrow at me when he sees my birthdate.

Me: “For the record, she told me to come through this line.”

I point at the other agent. He sighs heavily.

Agent #2: “Noted. You’re clear. Have a nice day.”

We’re still not sure how that happened, but the operating theory is that she just misread my birth year. I was born in the eighties; we think she misread it as the nineties. Not sure what she thought a fourteen-year-old was doing with a horizontal driver’s license, though! And no, my family did NOT let me live that down the entire trip!

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