TWIC - divide and conquer

[Pat McCotter]

Too fat to TWIC...

Posted on Mar 11, 2009 - 9:10pm by marshall j. gruskin in Lifestyle, Trucking

It was close. Nip and tuck. I sat there. The right hand. The left hand. The right hand again. The index finger. The other index finger. Try it again. OMG! FATAL ERROR! Listen, the last thing you want is to get a fatal error with any branch of the Federal government, especially with the Department of Homeland Security.

The agent, the TWIC card dude, the clerk – I don't know what to call him, got ashen. "This is not good" he said. His forehead wrinkled up just like my Beagle Joe when he thinks he hears a bird. I expected him to yell to his colleagues in the outer office, CODE BLUE, GET A CRASH CART IN HERE STAT!

Another TWIC "person" came into the office to assist. She looked at me. I looked at her. She looked at him. He looked at her. We all looked at each other. Silence. He said: "fatal error." No response. She said: "fingers?" He said: "probably." She reached out and grabbed my index finger. It hurt. I have really bad arthritis in my hands and fingers.  She placed it - my finger -on the little square electronic reader thingy. He shouted: "not too much pressure. Slowly! OK OK press down  s l o w l y. Jesus, I thought to myself get a grip here people. But I quickly reminded myself: "fatal error."

"No, no" he said. "Fatal error, fatal error damn." OK, OK so my trucker arthritis high blood pressure depression suffering fingers are too fat for TWIC! Sorry. But what about all the other truckers, most of whom are twice the size of me? Did they get fatal errors? Without much emotion the TWIC woman said: "No."  Alright already, don't you have a large sized thumb print reader like the doctor has a large cuff for taking blood pressure? Again, without any emotion, she said "No." "Would you please wait outside a moment, sir." OMG! Wait outside. That can't be good. What was I going to do, say no? I sat outside with my thin fingered son who was just handed his brandy new TWIC card.

Well. So here I am in an office of our nation's Homeland Security tagged with a fatal error, with fingers too fat toTWIC. I started having an anxiety attack. Thank God this was not my DOT physical, because the mercury w0uld have shot out from the blood pressure machine. I jumped when the door opened and "they" asked me to come inside. Was the "jig" up?  Was I not going to get a TWIC card because of my fat fingers, a victim of a Homeland Security FATAL ERROR that would remain on my record forever? Would I ever be able to fly or travel outside the country knowing that my name might appear on the fatal error too fat to TWIC list?

I need a Prozac. Why does this happen too me? Why the heck do I need a TWIC card anyhow? I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

She grabbed my finger - again! It hurt - again! These two had seriously discussed this whole "situati0n" behind closed doors. Apparently they were not going to0 be the only two Homeland Security folks  in the Homeland have a TWIC applicant be denied a TWIC card - fat finger or whatever. If it took the rest of the day with both them holding each of my fat index fingers, they were going to make this work. Perhaps this is why we haven't had a terrorist attack since 9/11! What impressive determination. Forget that my finger grew larger with each attempt!

Ten more minutes of trying. It worked. Somewhere at TWIC headquarters in Quantico or Washington DC or wherever, my fat fingerprint matched what was in the system. I don't remember which finger did the trick. Success. They looked more relieved than me. High fives all 'round. I was beyond stressed and both my fingers hurt

They handed me my brand new TWIC card. Yessss! I grabbed my son and got the hell out of there. We both celebrated - me with a cold Gatorade, he with a Red Bull. I guess I wasn't too fat to TWIC after all. So now I have the card - big deal. I bet I'll never use it. $139 bucks. Whew!

PS/ TWIC = Transportation Worker Identification Card