Let’s Go to the Airport

So I travel for work. A lot. There are weeks when I feel like I’m living in the airport. As such, I have a system for getting through security. My phone and keys have a place in my brief case (and are placed there as soon as I am out of the car), I know when I need my ID, I know what to do with my laptop, shoes, and jacket. I even have the liquids thing figured out. As a result, when there isn’t a line I breeze through and am back together quickly.

While I don’t agree that the measures at these checkpoints do any good, I live with it because I have to. However, I’ve noticed a lot of people who seem to show up at the airport and I want to ask them, “Did you know you were getting on a plane today??”

So many fellow travellers show up with more shit in their pockets than I thought humanly possible. They wait until they get in line and then they’re pulling out phones and change and belts and moneyclips and lighters and pocket knives and pens and PDAs and Crapberrys and Starbuck’s cups and small children. It’s like another dimension in their pockets and they always seem to have forgotten that none of it can go through the metal detector. While they’re pulling it all out, they look up while mouth breathing and ask, “Do I have to take my shoes off?”

Get a clue, please! We’re all in it together at the airport, stay alert and organized. Don’t have your pockets filled. Please get out of my way, I’m grumpy in the airport and all I want is to get to the Admiral’s Club as quickly as possible.

On another note, the amoount of noise pollution at airports just keeps getting worse. They’re putting in tile floors (so the sound bounces), playing CNN at full blast, making gate announcements, making security announcements, and playing Muzak on the planes as you get on. Delta, why the hell do you think Michael Bolton is going to relax me? If anything, you’re adding to my tension. Thanks!


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