Thursday, February 12, 2009

Airports, Security, and Whatever Turns You On

My yearly pilgrimage to Wisconsin is approaching and I'm consider the various ways to get there. They all involve being cramped into a very small enclosed space in an upright position with no fresh air and no solid ground under me for hours and hours. Nightmare! But I promised my mom and the shopping in America kicks butt! So I consider my experiences at the various airports on the way:

San Francisco - I had been killing time in Starbucks with a "regular" American coffee which is NOT 6 oz. like over here, and found myself running late. So I got in line and was fidgeting about a bit because after that buickload of coffee, I needed the ladies but couldn't get out of line, when security pulls me out of line. "Who, me? Are you sure?"
What's up with SF? I got thoroughly searched, twice. I got to keep the most important clothes on, but standing in your socks with your arms out and your belt and coat in a plastic basket and guy waving a wand over you while strangers watch - maybe some people get off on that but I'm just not into it.

Amsterdam - We were there quite a while ago, but they were way ahead of their time. You could live in that airport for a week. They have everything. A quiet area with comfortable couches where the kiddies and I had a little nap, showers, everything. My only problem there was the food. If you don't eat weird looking meats, it's kind of hard to find food. Luckily I have my grandma's genes and saved the saltine crackers and the little cups of jello from the first flight. That's all we had for about 12 hours.

Chicago - Generic, impersonal... They did quite a thorough security search. It was verging on paranoid. I was travelling with two babies. The security guards took us outside to the luggage trucks, in the pouring rain, and one held the baby while the other held an umbrella over the two year old and me while I opened my Wisconsin suitcase to prove there was no bomb in it. Would I bring my kids along if I was going to blow up the plane?

Atlanta - Well-oiled airport. You are moved along in a herd by airport personnel who know exactly where you are going just by looking at you. How do they know that I'm catching a connecting and the guy next to me isn't? How did my suitcase magically show up just where I'm standing? Why is that dog getting all excited, do I look like a frickin terrorist?!?

Frankfurt - Do German people not drink coffee? On the way, we were roped off into a separate section to wait for our connecting flight and I really needed coffee. There was none. Nothing but vending machines. And these machines have never heard of dollars. Just because I'm in Europe I can't use dollars? My fellow travellers swapped me enough funny little European coins to buy a coffee substitute. It had chocolate in it, which has caffein, but it was the worst tasting eskimo pie of my life.

On the return flight, after an 7.5-hour all-night flight, I had a 4-hour layover and needed coffee badly. 6:00 a.m., seemingly no airport staff, and no coffee anywhere. Trendy expensive duty free perfume and cosmetics but no coffee. I was considering drinking a perfume tester for the alcohol when I finally saw airport staff.
"I must have coffee, isn't there any somewhere?"
"Sorry Ma'am, we're remodelling."
"I don't care, I MUST HAVE COFFEE!"
"Well, there's some in the main area but you'll have to pass through security."
Great, I'll just pass through security, I have 4 hours. Bad decision.
What can I tell you, I've never been that intimate with a woman in my life! That security guard didn't use a wand, she used her hands, with only about 20 men standing around watching. Do I look like I belong in a soft porn flick? I bet she does it to all the women who pass through and that her male coworkers tip her for doing that.

Milano - This is a popular destination for people who are boycotting deodorant, and you'd be surprised at how many of those there are. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. There are no lines. You just breath through your sleeve and try not to fall and be trampled while the unwashed masses push you toward the customs clerks. But no security incidents, the good folks at Milano couldn't care less if I'm gonna blow up the plane.

3 comments:

  1. I remember when flying was fun.

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  2. Well, there's plenty of fresh air in Wisconsin--and lots of beer to go with it!

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  3. My mom complained at the airport when they asked her to remove her shoes. "This floor is very dirty." After getting a very stern look she shut up!

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