TSA; short for This S*#t Again!

We’ve all done it, unfortunately! We’ve trailed down the taped-lanes, suppose to be for larger crowds, meaning you’ve already  walked quarter-mile before you reach the alleged security channels, and there you wait, and wait, and shuffle forwards, and wait; then you are facing the dreaded airport security task-force. There they lounge, with a common I.Q. just above the moron limit, ready to treat another batch of self-loading cargo with the contempt we so richly (as far as they are concerned) deserve.

You are instructed to place all your loose cash, watches, wallets into coat pockets, take your coat or jacket off and place coat and any hand luggage you have been unwise enough to bring with you into the greasy, dirty, over-used plastic trays on the conveyor belt as they trundle through the scanners. You are then beckoned (no speech required, just an imperious wave with three fingers to walk through the metal detector arch, all sectors of which are set to maximum sensitivity; meaning the sirens call out if four flies pass through in diamond formation, never mind a human being.

You are then assaulted (legally) by some faceless clown who slides their hands up and down your extremities, all the while just waiting for you to raise one eyebrow in wordless retaliation, so that you may suffer further indignities explaining why you were ‘impeding a lawful search’ by someone passing his fingers millimetres away from your testicles. You are then told to take your shoes off, because, even though being the white, 76-year-old, bearded English-born grandfather that you are, you may be taking explosive-laden trainers on your flight; and we cannot show favouritism, can we?

You then put all your clothes back on, put your watch and wallet back into pockets, and slowly wander through the cash-trap which are the duty-free shops, specially lined up so there is absolutely no escape, and then to the over-priced and mainly indigestible garbage which are the fast-food ‘restaurants’ which litter the transit lounges of the airports of this world and wait, once more for your flight; content at least that technology is protecting you, even if the security clowns lack a certain air of efficiency.

 

Fair enough, but perhaps not so much contentment if, for example, your flight begins in Minneapolis-St. Paul’s International!