James Macon, M. Ed., BCBA
Dear readers,
This is not my typical article. There is no commentary on societal issues as seen through a behavior analytic lens. There is no mention of research or technology. It’s rather, an actual blog of my misadventures at the airport. And I use the word penis (so please don’t get offended). So read on, and enjoy my plight as I describe the rules and contingencies that led to a series of unfortunate events at the airport. Like everything in life, there is behavior analysis baked into it.
The prompt.
5:00 am, my alarm goes off. A truly obnoxious stimulus, but a necessary one, to ensure I physically move my sleep deprived person out of bed in the morning. I’m running on 6 hours of sleep, and as those who know me will attest, I’m not a “morning person.”
This morning is especially important, as I’m taking a 6:40 am flight to Miami, to embark on a planned sailing excursion with some friends.
*Note. Some might consider the alarm clock going off to be an SD and not a prompt. I don’t believe so for a few reasons: (1) I usually wake up independent of an alarm. (2) unless you’re in a coma, you will wake up eventually without an alarm, and therefore, without the assumed “SD.” (3) The duration of time spent sleeping (sleep satiation) will reduce its effectiveness as a reinforcer and act as an MO for waking behavior.
The establishing operation
With sleep deprivation as an establishing operation, and when transitioning from a sleeping to a wakeful state, I have been known, from time to time, to trick myself. The usual narrative sound something like “you have plenty of time still James…five more minutes of sleep and you’ll be better off…” I do the rational thing and set 3 alarms, staggered to go off in 6 minute increments. A truly awful way to wake up.
Response effort
Off to the airport. With minimizing response effort as primary focus, and pressed for time, I take a harrowing Uber ride to the airport. To accommodate my short arrival window, the driver drives an unprompted and relatively constant 85 mph down I-94 (range: 65-92). It was terrifying, but with such little sleep, I appreciated the extra adrenaline burst. We arrived at the airport with a cool 60 minute to depart, and I was thankful to be alive. I thanked him for his driving behavior and gave him a 20% tip. I hope I never have to drive with him again.
SD and S-Delta.
If I make it to the airport in time, and once past security, I will have the opportunity for reinforcement. Warm weather. Sailing with friends. Cute girls. Island hopping. Adventuring. This is assuming i get through security with enough time.
If there is an excessively long line at security, i run the risk of not making it through in time. No opportunity for reinforcement. No warm weather. No sailing with friends. No cute girls. No island hopping. No adventuring. None of the behaviors that led to me getting to the airport would be reinforced with a plane ride.
The stakes were high.
Punishment by the prevention of a reinforcer.
Negative self-talk. I messed up. If these people would just hurry up, I might make it, but TSA seemed undisturbed by my predicament. There was a bottleneck branching into 2 security line, with hundreds of people gnashing to get through.
I hear my name over the PA system, urging me get to the gate ASAP. My gate was literally on the other side of security, and it was going to be close. Thirty minutes and counting. I finally get to the security agent and hand over my digital boarding pass and driver’s license. “I made it,” I thought, with a literal sigh of relief.
Except there was a problem. My digital boarding pass was not displaying the bar code correctly, and I was asked to leave security and retrieve a paper boarding pass from a self-service kiosk. I voice my concern, and the agent promises she will let me back to the front of the line. I get to kiosk and enter my reservation number. With 20 minutes to go, the kiosk redirects me to the Spirit Airlines customer service desk. My heart sinks. That was it, I would not make my flight.
The agent at the desk was kind. She explained that neither the kiosk nor her could give me a boarding pass, as now there was only 15 minutes to departure. It seemed unfair, as I had a boarding pass emailed to me the night before and made it to the airport with time to spare (although admittedly, not enough time).
There was nothing she could do for me. I wished my friend Michelle was there… she has a remarkable skill set in negotiating situations like this, and would have used those skills to get a 1st class ticket for the flight I was about to miss, a travel voucher for some future date, and probably a Spirit Airlines commemorative travel mug to boot… but I was on my own.
There would be a $100 rebooking fee, and they could get me there by 8pm (well past the deadline to get to the marina, and a non-option). After some small talk, she offered to wave the extra fee for me, but couldn’t get me there any earlier than that evening. I politely declined, knowing she wasn’t responsible for my misfortune. I opted for a direct flight with another Carrier that would get me to Miami with 63 minutes to spare, assuming all went well.
The contingencies to access reinforcement through Spirit Airlines had failed, and resulted in a costly gift to an airline I disliked. I wasn’t giving up though, there was too much at stake. I was missing a presentation by a prolific researcher in the behavior analytic community that my company was hosting. The sailing trip had financially put me back, not to mention the FOMO of missing the trip (more punishment by prevention).
I entered another security line and rather impatiently waited to get through. I must have visibly appeared agitated, due to my constant under the breath muttering. Security was watching me.
When it’s my turn, I enter the body-scanning machine, raise my hands above my head, and wait for the machines’ metallic wands to encircle me. It does, and I exit. That’s when I’m stopped.
Murphy’s law
The TSA agent stops me and gestures to graphic representation of a person on the machine’s LED display. The character on the display has his groin area highlighted, indicating a manual inspection is necessary. He asks me if I am hiding something in my pants…
I pause. The agent had inadvertently set me up with a perfect alley-oop. While not in my daily repertoire, i nonetheless have come in contact with countless inappropriate jokes meant for situations just like this.
I thought of the relative probability that he would find my joke funny, versus the relative probability he would not. I opted for no joke.
Leaned helplessness
We stood approximately 8 inches to the side of the line, while he explained how he would have to physically check for contraband. I was instructed to pull my pants up from the waste band, essentially giving myself a public wedgie and restricting an area of male anatomy that is meant to hang loose. Next he grabbed either leg, 2 handed, and ran his hands up my leg until it made contact with my groin. After this, he used the back of his hands to make quick motioned swipes of my penis. I hoped it was as awkward for him as it was for me.
Other airport travelers were watching me now, hoping to be the first to witness some criminal feat of stupidity (the guy who tries to smuggle stuff taped to his penis? Is that a thing?).
To his surprise, and to the disappointment of the crowd, there was no weapon, and no contraband. Just anatomy (although feel free to insert appropriate joke here).
Three hours and 1 very turbulent plane-ride later, and while writing this blog, i made it to Miami. An Uber rider later and with 25 minutes to spare, I boarded the ship, exhausted, but with a story to share.
Behavioral rules
Rules describe behavioral contingencies. What new rules did I form this day?
- For future 5 am wakeup calls, set 4 alarms, not 3.
- Never fly Spirit Airlines.
- Give at least 90 minutes to get through security.
- Uber can indeed be dangerous.
- Sometimes, the body-scanning machines will think you have hidden things on your person when you really don’t. A man might have to grope you when this happens.
