Friday, July 01, 2005
There's No Security in TSA
The Transportation Security Administration, the newest member of the wasteful federal beauracracy proved its worth on my latest travel experience. Of course, all of the items I elected to carry on the flight happened to have been food. I had with me a dozen Dunkin Donuts. And a three foot salami in a FedEx tube. As I enter the area lining up to the xray machines, which is restricted to passengers, the lady who checks everyone's tickets stuck her hand out. I put out my ticket, but she didn't take it. After about 20 seconds of me fumbling around trying to see what she needed, I finally figured it out. She wanted the donuts. Every TSA officer from that point on made a comment about my donuts. They all joked that it was some fresh delivery for them. Actually, I think if I were a terrorist, I'd just by a fresh dozen sprinkled, and just dance on through with whatever intent (and dangerous weapons) I carried. The security officers would be easily pacified.
But it isn't just sugary objects that glaze over their eyes. As my three foot salami is passing through the detection machine, the officer stops the machine, and is focusing on the screen intently. Finally, he turns to me and asks what I have in the tube. I say simply, a salami. He nods in true understanding, and says profoundly, "That's what I thought." I'm glad these guys are trained to identify something with those machines. But at least I'll probably make his dinner table discussion as the most obscene item smuggled on-board. The better reaction came from his co-worker, a twenty-something blonde girl. She comes over to me as I'm gathering up my belongings, and confides in me, "You know I'm Polish, and my father used to make salami. But he never made one that long." Like an instant bond. I knew that I had this blonde under my spell. We hit it off with a discussion about good salami. She obviously knew how to focus on connecting with passengers, and not how to focus on her job.
And who says food doesn't travel well?
But it isn't just sugary objects that glaze over their eyes. As my three foot salami is passing through the detection machine, the officer stops the machine, and is focusing on the screen intently. Finally, he turns to me and asks what I have in the tube. I say simply, a salami. He nods in true understanding, and says profoundly, "That's what I thought." I'm glad these guys are trained to identify something with those machines. But at least I'll probably make his dinner table discussion as the most obscene item smuggled on-board. The better reaction came from his co-worker, a twenty-something blonde girl. She comes over to me as I'm gathering up my belongings, and confides in me, "You know I'm Polish, and my father used to make salami. But he never made one that long." Like an instant bond. I knew that I had this blonde under my spell. We hit it off with a discussion about good salami. She obviously knew how to focus on connecting with passengers, and not how to focus on her job.
And who says food doesn't travel well?
# posted by Josh : Friday, July 01, 2005
