by Brian Chartier

Created on: June 17, 2008

Airort Security Eh?

I was rushing to get to my gate. Flying out of Atlanta can be grueling at the best of times, but now it seems like rushing through a military base with all eyes upon you as you dash to catch a plane. I wondered if I should feel safe or annoyed, but needless to say there was little time for emotional sentiments.

Finally, the security line to get to my gate. Patiently I wait as the line snakes around those stoic aluminum pods and as we all move along we read the warning signs about sharp objects and other stuff. Once again I start to feel safe and look at my watch. There is time and the line seems to be mooving well.

Finally it is my turn. I place all my loose change, keys, pens, shoes and belt on the conveyor belt and wish them adieu. I always fear that I may never see them again. Then I stand shoeless infront of the archway waiting for the lady in uniform to wave me through. Then it happens! The dreaded beep!

I get waived over into a small area where a nice lady asks me to remove my jacket. I do. She examins the pockets and liner. She then asks me to undo my shirt. I do. She opens it revealing my chest and she proceeds to examine the inside. I can remember standing there hoping that I grabbed a clean one while packing at the hotel this morning. Then she asks for my socks. I looked at her. Straight-faced I tell her, "well ok, but if you ask me for one more piece of clothing, you're buying dinner tonight". She burst-out laughing and looked at my ticket. With a smile she looked at me and said, "get going or you may miss your plane".

I guess I reflected a bit on the whole incident and realized that she was just doing her job and maybe I brought a bit of laughter to her day. Regardless, I could not blame her for doing what she was trained to do. Essentially, protect us. The traveler.

When I finally arrived back in Toronto I was greeted by a customs agent who knew not how to smile or be polite. He rudely asked for my passport and asked why I had to be away on business for 3 days. He thought that what I had to do could be done in less. I was about to suggest he call my employer with his idea but figured it would only cause more trouble and obliged him until he finally waived me through. The sad part about this is that he was not even from North America. Sure he is likely now a citizen given his job, but his look and accent suggest he is from far, far away.

Oh well, I guess we should all feel safe and protected.

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