The TSA Chronicles, Chapter One

Chapter One: TSA Agents Might Be People Too!

I am familiar with airports.

In fact, generally I enjoy airports.

At last  count, I have been in an airport about 20 times.

I enjoy people watching.

I love the “Smoothie Factory/Place/Shops” that are in every airport.

And I don’t mind watch all the planes flying about.

But airports do have their drawbacks. For one, never do they ever have any place where it is at all comfortable to sleep.

I would hazard a guess that the American and European airports have a contest going on who can make the most uncomfortable, strange, illogical benches. If you must make seats out of so much metal and cheap plastic, could you please stop putting that absurd seat divider/armrest/no-would-ever-rest-his-arm-on-that-thin-hard-thing every one and half feet? It makes it quite hard to lay down. And the seat backs only support my lower back so you can’t even sleep sitting up!

As for the floor . . . . . remind me to tell a story about that sometime.

Also, people who work in airports are usually incredibly rude.

(Or maybe it is just that the airports I have used the most are Detroit and Atlanta . . . )

And we have all heard the stories of how horrible and stupid  TSA “agents” are.

I was in an airport just yesterday morning.

At 6:13 o’ the morning, to be precise.

(WHO in their right mind is fully awake at that time in the morning? Seriously! That hour ought to be struck from the clock!)

I was meandering along, dragging my trunk carry-on through the halls in search of that life-giving elixir known as coffee, when the speaker system clicked on and a dry, calm, cool, female voice began to declaim.

“The TSA is holding a Dell printer at security for the passenger who left in the x-ray machine. Would the passenger who left the dell printer at security please return to claim his property? The TSA is holding a Dell printer at security . . . “

I was inwardly snickering. It was too early to have full function of all my facial muscles, or I would have been outwardly snickering too.

And the dry, calm, cool, TSA lady felt the same. On the third repeat, her voice cracked and she started giggling. And tried to stop giggling by snorting. And finally ended it by abruptly shutting off the speaker.

Because, Heaven forbid anyone realize that TSA people have a tiny bit of a sense of humor!

And besides, I am not even sure why it was so funny.

Maybe simply because it was 6:13 in the flipping morning.

Or maybe because the idea of a printer being x-rayed momentarily struck me as highly incongruous.  Who is going to need a printer that desperately? Where could he possible go where there are no other printers to be begged, borrowed, or stolen with 200 miles? And it must not have been that important if he forgot it in the security line.

But, after all,  a printer is about the size of a piece of carry-on luggage. So why not?

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One thought on “The TSA Chronicles, Chapter One

  1. I once had a fun chat with the x-ray machine TSA agent regarding my bright red Converse and the Bose speakers that were clearly (by the x-ray) in my backpack. It’s nice to know that TSA agents can be real people.

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