Airport Observations: Dulles Airport of DC
Traveling is never fun. I don't mean the actual
destination. I mean the luggage, the airport, the people, etc. All highly stressful;
stressful in a way that turns me into a NFL linebacker as I plow my way through
ticketing, security, and the terminal. Don't care who ya are, if you're in my
way I WILL step on you, or not-so-gently nudge you to the side. If your child
is wandering aimlessly I may come close to hurdling them and probably making
them cry. Look, they shouldn't be loose like that in the first place. Buckle
them in a stroller, a wheelchair, strap 20 pound weights to their shoes, use
a fucking leash, I don't care. Just get those mongrels out of my way, I'm traveling!
Why is it that the airport attracts the kind of employee in which one needs
a "foreign"- to-English dictionary to communicate with? I want to
scream at them slowly, but I realize they aren't deaf or slow, they're just
fucking foreign. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for opening the pearly gates
so those who choose to come to this country can do so, but when I'm traveling
I don't care who your mama is, if you're adding to my stress I automatically
don't like you. This includes my family.
Airport security; that's always an exciting part of the traveling experience.
Will I make it through the metal detectors on the first try? Will I be the lucky
passenger pulled aside for the special wand treatment? Will the airport screener
speak English? It usually takes me two trips through to get an all clear. Usually
after the third trip through I'm sent to the "failures wanding area."
This is for us fuck ups who didn't take off our belts or watches, or who have
metal on our braziers.
I kid you not, one of my trips to the "failures wanding area" was
concluded with the female wanding person patting down my bra after the magic
wand beeped on my bra clasp. Another trip through resulted in a wanding lady
smacking me in the head with the wand. It wasn't a light tap either. I just
started laughing, otherwise I may have choked her where she stood. This is what
this woman does, it's her job! And she's hitting people in the head, nice. How
many people have you wanded lady? Enough to hold that damn thing a safe distance
from one's head? I guess fucking not. She apologized like three times, I just
kept fucking laughing. Told her she'd have a funny story to tell people. I should
of told her she was lucky to be alive to tell that funny story. I didn't choke
the bitch.
The real comic relief comes once you're waiting for your flight, when you have
nothing to do but sit and watch people. The things people do! No, no, the things
people wear! Let me just rattle off a few things I see as I'm writing this.
A man, about 55, khaki shorts, brown shoes, BLACK socks. A woman, early 20's,
dress shirt, black slacks, lavender THONG (yeah, I can see it clear as day).
A man, 65, navy blue track pants, white and baby blue shirt, FANNY PACK - the
accessory that just won't go away.
When I travel with my sister she and I can usually give a look and/or a nod
and know what each other is thinking about someone's wardrobe. Sorry if you're
one of our victims. Apparently other people's business is interesting to me.
Computer screens, documents, phones, conversations - I'm always watching and
listening.
Has anyone noticed that more planes are delayed than take off on time? You can
go to the airport expecting the flight to be delayed nowadays. And of course
this extra waiting and uncertainty just adds to that linebacker mentality I
spoke of before. Typically I'm a nice person. I say "please" and "thank
you", open doors for the elderly and mothers with strollers, I'm a generous
tipper. But fuck, put me in an airport and I transform into an absolute bitch.
I don't want the skycap to joke around, put my shit on the conveyer belt, give
me my boarding pass, here's your two bucks, now leave me alone. Perhaps there's
no curbside check-in today so I must go inside. If you're standing in line with
me that doesn't make us friends, don't fucking talk to me. Just because we're
flying the same airline on the same day doesn't form a connection between us.
Stand in line, watch your shit, and shut up. And oh yes, the friendly airport
screener. Do your fucking job, don't make jokes with me, don't stare at me for
too long, don't fondle my shit, don't touch my computer.
There are generally two types of screeners: those who take themselves way too
seriously, and those who just need a job. To the first group, this isn't the
FBI, you are an airport screener. You don't carry a gun, you don't even carry
pepper spray. My favorites are the ones who are so serious with their military
style cargo pants, and their military style haircuts. The only thing missing
is the kevlar and a handgun holstered to their thigh. And then of course there
is the second group. The ones who once they decided to apply as an airport screener
felt they should wait 30 days to cleanse their systems so they could pass the
drug test. Hardest 30 days of their life too. These people will flirt with attractive
women (or men), joke around and smile a lot. It appears their job is really
fun and interesting, perhaps because they don't know any different. Since they
aren't doing drugs anymore something has to give them satisfaction. The turnover
rate of airport screeners has got to be high. The kids not smokin dope anymore,
starts to miss it, and the diehards realize they are nothing more than toy soldiers
with bad haircuts.