Remember the days when you didn’t have to strip nude to get on a plane?
Airports. Don’t people get it after all this time? We are all frequent fliers nowadays, but there are still the sluggish that don’t take their computers out of bags, or remove belts, shoes and jackets going through security. When will they learn? Surely not before my blood pressure ramps up a few ticks.
Then there’s the slavish pursuit of juice to power up the ever-diminishing battery capacities of our devices, whatever they may be. I won’t admit to unplugging the odd vending machine or two.
More hazards of commuting by plane: the line cutters at check-in, the armrest hogs, and the idiots who don’t attempt to remove their carry-on bags from overhead bins until half the plane has disembarked. Oh the joy. On way back from day trip to Zurich this morning my computer bag was randomly tested for TNT and came back with a quasi-positive. Seven machine-gun toting, burly bomb squad members swooped down on me like I was al-Qaeda. From the feared and notorious Long Island sleeper cell no doubt.
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Normally such delay and inconvenience grates so much I am prone to surliness, but looking at extent of armaments the (entire?) Swiss army were packing, everything but the knives, I wisely complied with their instructions.
“Would my job bring me into contact with any combustible components?” There have been some explosive prices in the art market of late, but nothing that might rub off on my computer bag. Luckily I wasn’t carrying any inappropriate reading materials.
I was prepared to suffer a cavity search but thankfully (for me and them) it didn’t come to that. Remember the days when you didn’t have to strip nude to get on a plane and then you could smoke and drink your way to your destination without health and safety bearing down?
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