got smrt?

what time is it? that's right...

some airports are like luxury hotels.  some provide you with little paper slippers so you don't have to mix your feet with other feet on that horrid floor-thing.  others provide quart-sized ziplock bags for all of your liquids.  some even go so far as to have them specially made, with the 3-1-1 guidelines printed right on the baggie for your convenience.  still others have the massive resources to pay someone 8 hours a day to do nothing more than stand there and push your stuff into the x-ray machine for you.  wow.  it must be rough to live in those states.  here in a place i like to call "reality," otherwise known as "charm city," our budget is far more constrained.  FAR far more.

 

we do not have the money to provide all of our passengers with plastic ziplock baggies.  if you don't have the wherewithal to own a box of baggies (which cost as little as $1 at the dollar tree store), you either leave your liquids in the suitcase and risk a bag check, or you can dump them all into a bowl.  either way, your failure to properly pack is no reason to abuse my state's budget.  your luggage = your baggie.  the end.

 

i live pretty green.  you wouldn't expect your local public swimming pool to provide you with throw-away flip flops, would you?  no.  you bring your own.  save a tree.  pack your own socks.  i know *i* wouldn't walk on those nasty floors in my bare feet.

 

we are constantly called mouth-breathing simian thugs, incapable of reasoning and original thought.  so you think i'm going to steal your laptop (and hide it.... where?  in my pants?) and shoes (yup, been accused of that, too)... why on earth would you turn your back on your belongings in an international airport and expect me, or better yet a complete stranger in line behind you, to move your shit for you?  you can hire someone at the airport to play porter for you, if you are simply too good to move your own goods.  just ask at the ticket counter.  oh, and, i hate to be the one to point this out, but, if your bag is so heavy that you can't lift it onto a table, you won't be able to get it into the overhead bin, either.

 

what, you ask, brought on this rant?

 

a woman had a handbag with a pre-printed 3-1-1 baggie inside (which i had not seen before) containing a 16 ounce bottle of lotion.  right on the bag it says "if it is too big for this baggie, it is too big for your carryon."  there were three inches of bottle sticking out of the top of the zipper.  and i'm stupid?

 

someone left a laptop bag out on the table.  i sighed, walked up to the front of the x-ray then pushed the bag inside the machine.  joy of joys.  it had an electronic device inside - quite of few of them, actually.  they were all stacked on one side.  i asked several passengers if this particular bag belonged to them.  a man tried to yank it out of my hand.  he failed.  i asked him if it was his.  he snarled at me that he wouldn't know if it was his if he wasn't allowed to look inside.  he told me that yes, he owned a laptop bag and yes, it did very strongly resemble the one in my hot mitts, and demanded to know why it took so long to get through the machine.  um, because YOU abandoned it, asshat.

 

a woman traveling with her son refused to remove their shoes.  she plopped into the chair in the screening room and demanded additional screening.  she took off her shoes (sockless) and held her feet suspended in the air while i had them x-rayed.  i had to pat her down and everything.  and then her son had to go through the additional screening as well.  the same way.  then she wanted to speak to my supervisor because i was "taking too long."  she claimed to be a supervisor from puerto rico but never once showed ID to back up that claim.  my supervisor informed her that, instead of discipline, he would put my name in for a time-off award for doing my job exceptionally well.  that pissed her off greatly.  i never did get the award (and did not expect it), but it's good to know that he backed me up 100%.

 

meh.  it is my friday, and this is the end of my rant.