sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

Probably I shouldn't write this while I'm surfing the wifi in the airport, but airport security sucks.

I totally get that security is all for our own good, and I grew up travelling to Israel in the eighties, so I'm compliant. And I always peck my own peckages.

On the way out, I put two of my less than 100ml things in a clear plastic bag (a lipgloss and a moisturiser) but left other stuff in my bag (deoderant, perfume, suntan cream). I was just taking carry-on, as it was only two days; a small cross-shoulder handbag that just fits my tiny laptop, and a (small) 15 litre back pack with a skirt, underwear, three t-shirts and toiletries. The airline said it was all fine.

Queuing in the mad queue between check-in and the gate for security, there were really hundreds and hundreds of people, packing and repacking their bags. And there were plastic bag marshalls doling out plastic bags. I withheld the urge to take a few (because of the war -> hoarding thing. Once, I had a cleaner who said to me, in response to my lifetime's supply of plastic bags under the sink, "what is it with you Jewish people and the plastic bags?" but I digress. Which is my custom).

So I'm queueing and one of these guys says to me, "you've got two bags." And I say the airline said it was fine. And he said they know the rules, I have to put one inside the other. They don't fit. I ask him what to do. He says, "go to that shop called Glorious Britain and buy a large plastic bag and put them both inside."

Rulesworth. Computer says no. Man but I hate this stuff.

So I lose my place in the queue and go to Glorious Britain who won't give me a bag, so I have to spend £2.50 on chocolate, even though I really don't eat chocolate any more. She tried to sell me all manner of chazerai/tchatchkes, and while I probably think Britain is Glorious, and took in my Great Grandfather 109 years ago, I don't want a mug - or in fact anything - with a union jack on it. So I offered her the chocolate, and then she said she felt guilty, so I gave it to some random passing guy who said he prefered hard candy and I said it was a gift and packed my two bags in my plastic bag and got back in the queue.

Sheesh.

And I queue for even longer, and go through security and then afterwards, I bypass some kind of kerfuffle, and looking back, I realise that you're supposed to go through the whole thing again for shoe-security (subset of big security)but loads of just walked on by.

Like a song.

And then just now, on the way back at JFK they have all the signs about one bag and I get out my Glorious Britain bag, ready for the same stupid ruel-bending silliness... and they don't care. But they do make you take your shoes off at the same time. You can never be too careful.