Beware the SSSS!

My initiation to the SSSS (aka ‘The Quad S’) came last week. I was gearing up to fly from Halifax, N.S., to Newark, N.J. and was having trouble printing my boarding pass, even though I was within the requisite 24 hours of my flight. I was advised by my airline to get the pass at the airport.

No biggie, I thought. I’ll just spin by Halifax’s Stanfield International en route to a nearby friend’s place, where I was staying the night before my flight. Having the boarding pass in hand would mean less hassle the next day and result in a better night’s sleep. (Despite many trips under my belt, I’m still a slightly anxious flyer.)

At Stanfield, I had no issue getting the boarding pass and was soon back in my car, off to my friend’s home.

I didn’t notice the bold ‘SSSS‘ on the bottom left and right of the boarding pass until after I returned to the airport the next morning and entered the International Departures security area. After handing the pass to the agent at the podium, he smiled and said something along the lines of, “You’re a lucky one today.” He put my boarding pass and passport in a small, orange folder and instructed me to give it to his colleague in the tray area ahead. I walked a few steps and joined passengers putting their belongings into plastic trays for xray scanning, all the while sensing that the agent’s comment about me being “lucky” would not result in anything remotely fun.

I was right.

Turns out the ‘SSSS’ means ‘Secondary Security Screening Selection’. My later research revealed that the extent of that screening can vary by airport and agent but essentially means an enhanced check of the passenger.

As soon I handed the tray-area agent my orange folder, I felt as though a ‘Red Alert’ had been announced on the USS Enterprise. Other agents in the vicinity were suddenly looped in about my status and a lot of eyeballs seemed directed my way.

Had I unknowingly taken up a life of crime overnight? Had I been transported to a parallel universe? Was there a TV crew filming a new episode of Border Security over my shoulder?

I tried to remain calm as I executed the usual tasks of putting my carry-on suitcase, jacket and purse in trays atop the metal assembly line rollers. I remembered to remove my laptop and phone from my baggage, as well as my airport-approved, one-litre bag of liquids and gels.

I also dutifully removed my footwear, as one generally does when going through international security areas.

The ‘Quad S’ protocols then kicked in and I was advised to unpack any other footwear in my possession and place those in trays.

And take my phone out of its case. And power on all of my electronics.

While I tended to those assignments, the agent placed rectangular SSSS-stamped cards–about twice the size of a cell phone–in each of my bins. The line behind me grew longer as the scrutiny continued. I sighed, knowing there was nothing I could do, though pretty much felt like a big ol’ loser.

Thankfully, nary a beep could be heard during the next step, the Walk-Through Metal Detector. Phew, it’s almost over, I thought. 

Not so fast.

It was then on to the hand swab for explosive residue and the body scanner booth, both of which I’d done before. All clear, again.

Freedom at last, I assumed, and turned to collect my things.

But no.

A female agent quietly infomed me that I would require a full-body pat-down, which I could do on the spot or in a private room. I gave her the go-ahead to do the pat-down right then and there. The agent was polite but thorough as she searched my person from my neckline to my socks. Meanwhile, pretty much every inch of my carry-on suitcase, backpack and other trayed items were being swabbed and examined.

Thankfully, all was in order. My boarding pass was given a ‘CATSA’ stamp indicating I had passed a review by the Canadian Air Transport Security Authority.

I repacked my slew of stuff, retrieved my documents and headed for my gate. I pondered a morning beer stop rather than a tea break and was grateful I had plenty of time before my departure.