bitches on the floor

 This has not been a stellar week. Between passengers and a couple of people over my head, I feel like I have been stomped. Grump. 98Rock was kind enough to provide me with some angry music on my way into work today, and it felt good just to sit and seethe. Nothing of particular importance happened today, and for that I am grateful. So, on to the bitches.

I am still with an OJT (who is not a bitch). Bag check. Blah blah blah… your liquids, creams, gels and sprays are too big… blah blah… -this passenger is one of those Interrupters. The ones who ask me a question and before I have a chance to finish answering they tell me how ridiculous or stupid I am. The ones I need to dig down DEEEEEP into a well of calm to stop from snapping replies like, “Oh, so you didn’t actually want to know the answer to your question? Then shut up, step back and let mommy work here.” She knelt down on the floor to tie her shoes, and when we got to the part about “not able to go in your carry-on,” she threw her hands, her book and her purse into the air, threw herself onto the floor and had herself a snit. Pinching her nose between thumb and forefinger, she said in her haughty voice, “So a lady is not allowed to have her beauty products. That beats all.” Honey, you need more than products. She proceeded to sit in the walkway, blocking passengers who gingerly tried to pick their way around her and her mess, politely not rolling over her fingers. She proceeded to tell us how ridiculous it is that she can’t have her $50 worth (read: they were on sale for $1 each at Wal-Mart) of lotions and hair cream, and how these new rules keep messing her up. “New” being 2006, is rather new in her golden age, I suppose. My OJT did outstanding, telling her to make up her mind and fast, not batting an eye at the drama the mama brought with her.

(The very next day, my OJT passed her exam with flying colors… that’s two for two! WAY TO GO!!!)

I guess it is just human nature to want to “help” things that are “stuck.” Contrary to popular belief, the x-ray machine is not in constant motion. I, the x-ray operator, make the conveyor belt move when, and ONLY when I damn well please, with the push of a set of magical colorful buttons. My job is to look at the contents of the bag and the bag itself, not just roll the shit through like a burger on the griller at BK. It is not a moving sidewalk for your luggage. So, in order to better view the helter-skelter contents of your world-in-a-bag, I stop the machine. If your bag is inside the tunnel, just out of reach, LEAVE IT. It is not stuck. Looking in the tunnel won’t make it move faster. Talking to me won’t make it move faster. Talking to me repeatedly, telling me that the bag is stuck and the belt isn’t moving is certainly going to take more time. Cause now that I have taken my eyes off the bag to look at you and hold a conversation, I forgot what I already checked. Yeah. Your fault, there. Again, don’t reach into the tunnel to grab your bag. If I catch you, I will take your bag away and run it through again on principle. I am sick to death of getting yelled at by my supervisors for you freaks climbing into the x-ray and grabbing bags before I am done.

Don’t put your animals into the x-ray. I am also tired of playing firefighter and retrieving your animals for you. You didn’t know? You *didn’t* KNOW it was an X-RAY MACHINE???? And someone allowed you to care for another living being?? Please leave my sight. Now. Before my stupidity lasers activate and your cat needs a new owner.

Which brings us to insanity.

Random: (adj) 1. without pattern. done, chosen, or occurring without an identifiable pattern, plan, system, or connection. random checks 3. equally likely. relating or belonging to a set in which all the members have the same probability of occurrence. a random sampling

You’ve been randomly selected for additional screening. “I’ve been what? Why me? Out of all these ladies, why me?” Well, uhm, it was random? You were the next lady through the door? “My father just died the other day. I don’t know if I can handle this. I feel like the weight of a thousand bricks is on me.” Uhm, I’m sorry to hear that. This will just take a minute and you will be on your way. I need to pat you down– “WHY? I’m a Christian woman. Why did you choose me???” I didn’t actually choose you, ma’am. And your religion has nothing to do with it.

I ran through the litany of questions I’m supposed to ask every lady who steps in to be screened by me. I asked her if she was sore anywhere, because I didn’t want to injure her. She was obviously upset and I wanted to finish what I had to do and quickly. “ Yes. I’m sore. Everywhere.” Okaaaaay. I will be careful. I reached my hands out to her elbow and she flinched back like she’d been struck by lightning, and said, “Don’t touch me. You’re dirty! You keep away from me!” When I called for a supervisor, she began wailing… and wailing about her father’s death “this very day, this day!!” -oh, did you catch that too? mm-hmm. She caused a scene the likes of which I have never seen before. She accused me of being a racist. She accused me of being a cold, mean-spirited, ugly girl with a dark heart. She said at one point, “Look at her dull eyes; she’s simple, that one.” Fortunately for her, I had already removed myself from the screening booth, because what she would have seen was green fire shooting from my eyes and fists controlled at my sides. If there is one thing that will get my goat every time, it’s calling my intelligence into question. Every. Effing. Time. NOW it’s on. Passengers are watching her snotting and crying on my supervisor, weeping and wailing all over the place. She is thrashing around the screening booth, leaning on this person and then that person. Falling all over herself and acting a fool.

Other passengers watching the calamity told me, “If she would just calm down, she would be done by now.” “I’ve been selected before. It’s no big deal.” “I get selected all the time.” The Supervisory Hysterics Committee finally calmed her enough to lead her out of the screening booth to a private room and when I gathered her things up, she started over again, about my dirty gloves. I was about *this* close to thowin down and knockin this old bitch to the floor, funeral or not. May I remind you, it is my job to see through shit like this; people lying to get out of screening procedures to sneak stuff onto a plane. For all I know, she is smuggling something on her person and is terrified I’m going to find it. It would not be the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. (Although the funniest was the dude who tried to smuggle his pepper spray through, tucked into his dark, dark secret and it um, leaked. That was a fast runner! But that is another story.)

She ruined my day. She ruined my night, too…thoughts of a plane going down because I didn’t screen her thoroughly enough…. She called me stupid, yes, but it also called into question what I could have done differently, better to calm her ass down. Or perhaps it was all a ruse and she just wanted to see how far it could go. Maybe she was testing the limits. At one point, I wondered if she was testing me, personally, to see if I followed procedures. She made me so angry and I held my cool, for the most part. But I hate her *hate* her with a passion for making me feel like this. She is a simple, stupid cow, funeral or not. And the next person who comes through, carrying on like that will not evade screening either. I guarantee it.

adding to the stupidity

 since the beginning of may, i have been in trainer status. my job is to train these ladies to be just like me!! well, not really. i impart my knowledge, then sit back and watch to make sure that they use prper procedure for the next six weeks. my first lady did a fabulous job and aced her test with flying colors. my second lady is testing this week, and she is a riot. she doesn't say much, but when she does, stand back.

part of the job is to tell passengers what they need to do to get ready to come through security. whether they listen or not is not our place to determine, we are required to run our mouths constantly... kinda like the announcements on the rides at disney. heaven forfend that there's a policy change that we have to announce because yesterday, everyone's ears were painted on.

so my girl was advising her passengers about laptops, shoes, boarding passes, the usual drill, and this one lady would not stop talking. my girl waited until the woman paused to take a breath. she tried to make eye contact. she waved her hand to get the lady's attention. nothing.

"ma'am. i will give you $100 right now if you look at me."

three people from another lane turned to look and this lady was completely oblivious. she finally stopped yapping when the other lane busted up laughing and someone from behind her pointed at my young lady up front. "are you ready, miss? good. because we have all been waiting on you."

and then it took her three tries to walk through the metal detector because she wasn't ready after all.

be not a salmon

 i thought the end of the school year meant i would have more time to write. not so. i am spending my time lounging about, enjoying my afternoons with my kids. and collecting short stories to compile. today is the compilation day.

when the airline representative at the ticket counter tells you that your sword is too valuable and that the airline does not want to take responsibility for its safe-keeping as checked baggage, and advises you to take the sword on the airplane as carry-on, you need to change airlines. really really. there were witnesses. witnesses that were not traveling with aforementioned sword-bearing passenger. the airline was informed that their representative was indeed incorrect. swords are not carry-on. Douchebags Endangering Luggage, Travelers & Aircraft.

the lines only move as fast as the person up front. remember that while you are grousing at the back of the line about how slow things are moving. use that line time to, oh, i don't know, maybe get the ticket out that says "from: baltimore, to: someplace else." then, when you are head guy up front, how about you empty your pockets the FIRST time you alarm the metal detector? oh, and you left your laptop in your bag, too? let me remove it for you. and once the laptop is out, i can see the bottles of shampoo and the pocketknife you aren't supposed to have. now you've lost your watch? did you check the flotilla of bowls exiting the x-ray machine? yes. all those are yours. don't forget your handful of condoms; i don't need those things anymore. i'm sure i don't know where you put your shoes. did you put them inside the x-ray machine? are you sure? i will go check out front. no, sir. they were on the floor under the table where you kicked them off. they are inside the x-ray right now. you want to speak to my supervisor? by all means. tell them you were the one who wanted to jump the line because you said it was moving too slow. yes. i remember your sneer from all the way back at the end of the line. sir? you forgot your blackberry. have a nice flight. there's the door.

real live conversation: ma'am, you can take this bag back to the ticket counter and check it if you'd like to keep all your bottles, but they can't go with you as carry-on. "what does that mean?" that means that you can't bring this bag full of big bottles on the plane with you. it has to go in the belly of the plane. "what do you mean?" ~pause~ ma'am, um, you can check your bag with the airline, if you like. if you don't want to check your bag under the plane, these will have to be surrendered. "i told you you can check in the bag already. what do you want?" ~~pause~~ ma'am. which airline are you flying today? "answer." did you speak to anyone who works for your airline today? "yes." they gave you your ticket, and you gave them a suitcase and they put a little sticker on it, and it rolled away on a black machine and now you can't see it anymore? "yes, that's right." you'll have to go out there and do that again with this bag. "oh. oh. no. go ahead and throw this stuff away then." christ-almighty-in-a-gold-lamee-tupee-on-a-pogo-stick-leaping-through-hoops-of-fire.

when you are selected for random additional screening, it is just that: random. i am required to continuously check random pieces of luggage, accessible property, and passengers. it's called "random" because it is not planned. it occurs to keep people guessing. you never know what is going to happen next. if you can't plan, then neither can They. if i am white, and you are not, selecting you for additional screening does not make me a racist. it does not mean i don't like your football team. i don't, but i don't like football anyway. i didn't see anything suspicious about you, and i'm not testing your DNA. i could care less if your shoes stink, because in this place, everybody stank. go right ahead and speak to my supervisor. i'm feeling froggy today, so go ahead and speak to her supervisor too. he might give me an award for all my randomness. i'd like an award.

you just paid $200 to fly somewhere, sitting very close to someone you quite possibly do not know for an unknown amount of time from one to four hours. maybe more. the least you could do is wash your ass, even if you had to get out of bed at 2am. a bar of soap is like 97 cents.

if the thought of walking barefoot on the nasty carpet bothers you, BRING SOCKS. you could try matching up socks, maybe even finding a pair or two that don't have holes (plural) in them. the dollar store sells bunches of socks (for $1!!) that you could put on, walk through the checkpoint, sit down, peel off the "nasty" socks, put your shoes back on, and throw away the $1 socks. it is feasible. your squeamishness and inability to plan ahead affect my job not in the slightest.

do not bring a 14-inch machete in your carry-on. let me rephrase that: DO. NOT. BRING. A. 14-INCH. MACHETE. IN. YOUR. CARRY-ON.

your flight takes off at 10:50? you want to cut the line? it's boarding now? they are calling your name? was there a line at the ticket counter? no? it is 10:45 am. ma'am, you can't cut the line. for all i know, half of these people in this line are on your flight. most of these people showed up with time to get to their flights. i am not allowed to put you in front of people who planned enough time to get to the airport. it doesn't matter if you have children or not. when you booked your ticket, the agent told you to allow two hours to get through the check-in and security process, not two minutes. this checkpoint has been open since 4:11 am, so you have had 6-1/2 hours to get through here. i suggest you head back to the ticket counter to re-book. you are not going to make it to your flight on time.

passenger flow is up, personnel is down, because not only do we deserve a little time off, we have training and testing requirements, too. work with me, people.

cedar plank grilled salmon

cooking light magazine

it's what's for dinner.

15 x 6 x 3/8 inch cedar plank (can be found in the grilling area of walmart now)
1-1/2 tsp sea salt
1-1/2 tsp dark brown sugar
1 tsp gr. cumin
1 tsp dried crushed thyme
3/4 tsp ground black pepper
3/4 tsp paprika
3/4 tsp chili powder
1/4 tsp cinnamon
3 pounds salmon fillets

1. soak cedar plank(s) in water for at least 1 hour. pat dry, but leave damp to the touch.
2. while planks are soaking, combine spice rub. sprinkle onto salmon fillets and press into the surface.
3. brush both sides of cedar plank with olive oil. place on grill over medium-high heat and char one side. turn over and place salmon on charred side. keep spray bottle of water handy in case of flare-ups.
4. cover and grill 25 minutes or until fillets flake easily with a fork.

serves well with seasonal green salads and couscous or mixed rice dishes.