Wednesday, January 18, 2006
So the other day, Dad tried to get a 10-inch knife through airport screening on his way to Florida. It wasn't on purpose. He just forgot that it was at the bottom of his backpack.
His trip through security started ordinarily enough. He slung his backpack on the conveyor belt, walked through the x-ray machine and stood waiting on the other side for his pack. But the technician was staring at its image on the screen.
Someone else was called over. They both stared at it. Then they asked my father to step aside.
A TSA guy dug into the bottom of the pack. From it emerged a huge, red-sheathed knife. The TSA guy, agog, slid it out of the sheath.
"That must be six inches," he said as it glinted under the fluorescents.
"More like 10 inches," Dad said.
People on the security line stared at Dad in horror.
Dad explained that he'd taken the pack fishing or something, and had forgotten the knife was in there.
"You're not getting this back," the TSA guy said.
"That's OK. I just want to get on the plane!" Dad said.
Dad's wife sidled away from him as they checked Dad's name against a list of terrorists.
Then three big, beefy transit cops came over. They seemed to take the situation less seriously, but they still wrote him a ticket -- a summons to appear in Queens criminal court next month. And the TSA double-teamed him, fining him $200. But he did get on the plane.
All this from a guy who once loaded his carry-on with dirt he suspected might be harboring gold flakes. They wondered about that at security, too, but they let him take it home, where he dumped it in the bathtub to pan it.
No gold, however.
His trip through security started ordinarily enough. He slung his backpack on the conveyor belt, walked through the x-ray machine and stood waiting on the other side for his pack. But the technician was staring at its image on the screen.
Someone else was called over. They both stared at it. Then they asked my father to step aside.
A TSA guy dug into the bottom of the pack. From it emerged a huge, red-sheathed knife. The TSA guy, agog, slid it out of the sheath.
"That must be six inches," he said as it glinted under the fluorescents.
"More like 10 inches," Dad said.
People on the security line stared at Dad in horror.
Dad explained that he'd taken the pack fishing or something, and had forgotten the knife was in there.
"You're not getting this back," the TSA guy said.
"That's OK. I just want to get on the plane!" Dad said.
Dad's wife sidled away from him as they checked Dad's name against a list of terrorists.
Then three big, beefy transit cops came over. They seemed to take the situation less seriously, but they still wrote him a ticket -- a summons to appear in Queens criminal court next month. And the TSA double-teamed him, fining him $200. But he did get on the plane.
All this from a guy who once loaded his carry-on with dirt he suspected might be harboring gold flakes. They wondered about that at security, too, but they let him take it home, where he dumped it in the bathtub to pan it.
No gold, however.
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That is HILARIOUS. I don't know which is more amusing, the size of the knife or the dirt. "Oh no, that's four inches more dangerous than what YOU said!"
That must have made those security dude's day. Not just harassing ladies with big purses or making people in wheelchairs walk through the metal detector - we got a knife here! Hot damn.
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: 1:47 AM
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