Almost there...

Saturday, October 12, 2002

Just glancing at an old Time magazine on my desk and realized I never wrote about our flight to Seattle 3 weeks ago. I got so totally distracted by my job offer that i completely forgot about it.

We arrived at the airport with boarding passes in hand and no luggage to check. Getting through security there was still all the drama you could want. I've developed a habit of wearing absolutely no metal objects when traveling, save for my ankh (and if you think I'm going on a plane without that, you have no idea how superstitious I really am). So, I'm wearing a clothes with no metal at all. No belt buckle. No metal buttons. No metal on the shoes. And yet, as I passed through the detector, it went off. I said, "What!" At that point I had already been hassled about putting both my and Rick's bag through the conveyor ("Only one carry-on per person." So I say, "It belongs to my S.O., and since you have no restroom on this side of the security gate, he'll be here after he pees." They say, "So it isn't yours?" I say, "It belongs to my husband. I'm just trying to get through the scanner while he goes pee." blah blah blah. Finally they let it through.) So the sensor goes off, and I yell "What!" with my blood pressure already rising. Then they call me back through to the other side because Rick's laptop was shoved in his carry-on (unbeknownst to me). I pull the laptop out and stick it in the tray. I think this is where I started rolling my eyes. So I go back towards the detector, and the attendant is on the other side already waiting to wand me. Only this time it _doesn't_ go off. "Ha!" I say and grab my suitcase off the conveyer and wait for Rick's laptop. Meanwhile, Rick is being asked to remove his shoes, take off his belt, and other various random assaults. He finally gets dressed again, repacks his bag, and we're ready to board the plane. Getting through security is like a battle all its own, and it's especially annoying at the San Jose airport because you need to save a lot of time to deal with security, and yet there's nothing on the other side but chairs and the gate. So if you decide you want a soda or need to pee, it costs you another trip through security.

Anyway, we made it, and we were waiting. They started pre-boarding the oldest and youngest passengers. One was a two year old toddler who was selected for random searching. Yes, a two year old (maybe younger). 'Cause, you know, the two year old terrorist population is really dangerous. They've got these drool bombs now that are just viscious. So they're trying to get the kid to raise her arms up so they can wand around them, and the kid is so confused, and looking at mom, and mom is amused. Me, not so much. I'm with the kid. The kid was not happy. Weird strangers were touching her, and she was not interested. And me, boy, I tell you, I felt so much safer after they checked that two year old.

Meanwhile, I'm happy to report that with all of that screening and so forth, my swiss army knife made it safely onto the plane. Oh, and the razor in my toiletry kit. And nail clippers. Yep. Feeling like all of this annoyance is really making us safer. Yep yep yep. Oh well. At least it's a good show. I begged Rick to get the camera out, but he just couldn't face repacking his bag _again_ after he just got the laptop back in it and his shoes back on. Sigh.

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