Transfer Series, I’m Not a Terrorist Part 2

The large digital clock had ticked down to three minutes, it was time to board my train.

I enjoy sitting in the front section of the light rail. This way if the train hits something, and it does happen, I’ll have a front-row seat in hopes of snapping a few pics for my next story.

Getting back on track (no pun), I was directly behind the small compartment where the conductor hides. I say hides because these days security is very tight, and the driver of the train is rarely seen, and only then if at least one armed guard is present.

As previously mentioned, I stepped on to the front car of the train, carrying a small black bag, typing on my phone, and I had just been outside photographing the front of the train. An inescapable thought hit me just then, I’ve done something to draw attention, not from a pretty lady (not that lucky), but from The Union Station Security Force. It’s not that I’m a paranoid person, or I did something wrong, but two other factors. One, I simply did the math on the situation. And two, I could feel it.

When I boarded the train, I was the only person riding in the entire front car. I immediately began writing a blog post, my mind split between my typing and my environment. I had zero difficulties zeroing in on the approaching armed security officer slowly making his way towards me from the back of the car, and I prepared my September RTD Pass in advance, just to expedite the approaching inevitable.

I heard the two words.

“Fair check.”

From over my right shoulder. My wallet was already resting on my right upper thigh, folded open to allow a quick showing of the pass, just long enough to answer the second question that I discerned from his body language, eye movements, and his mind. The second question, are you a threat?

I’d already prepared my answer, using body language, eye movements, and my mind.

“I’m not a terrorist.”

I needed to travel past three stops to get close to my house. My new personal bodyguard stayed with me, just there with me, for the rest of my trip.

Can’t and won’t say it was the first time, and I’m not a terrorist or a threat.

End Part 2

Please check back for Part 3. Things will beat up a bit.

J.S.

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