ten billion butterfly sneezes

We left LA last Wednesday morning; I think I mentioned previously that the TSA managed to push my buttons on our departure from El Lay.

This time, lines were short, there was signage advising us that our shoes, even plastic Crocs, must make the journey through the X-ray machine. We were greeted by someone who ran our driver’s licenses under some type of ultraviolet device, squinted to read the names on boarding passes and licenses, and dutifully put the Official Seal of the Ministry of Homeland Security^TM prominently on each boarding pass. Off, then, to the Xray devices, and the Alien Probe Line. Grumbling only a bit as my Crocs went into the plastic tub to be screened, I noticed that each plastic tub had ads on them. Ads. From zappos.com, in this case. The TSA’s way of recouping a few of the bazillions of taxpayer dollars that fuel their wastage and inefficiency, I guess.

After the tubs were safely on the conveyor to be xrayed, the TSA professional advised us to have our boarding passes available for Metal Detector Guy, as we passed through those devices. I had mine, my little bride’s was in her purse, heading to the xray machine. I told Metal Detector Guy that my wife’s boarding pass was in her purse, and that I’d retrieve it, and bring it to him. Fine, says MDG. So I go through the metal detector, see my wife’s purse coming out the xray machine, pick it up, and head towards MDG to show him the proper papers. It could be, that the Official Seal of the Ministry of Homeland Security^TM had faded on our 10-yard journey through the metal detector, and by gum, we can’t be too safe. At this time, another fine TSA specimen, the Plastic Tub Replacement Lady, came barrelling up from behind me pushing a cart load of plastic tubs, narrowly missing running me over, snatched my wife’s purse from my hand, and attempted to stuff it back into the xray machine. I told her I was taking the purse to MDG; she was hearing none of that. At about this time, the following dialogue ensued:

• MDG: “You were supposed to bring the purse to me.”
• Me: “I was bringing the purse to you, when Endora here cut me off and took the purse.”
• MDG: “You weren’t following directions.”
• Me: “Like hell”
• MDG: “You didn’t do what I said.”

By this time, PTRL had somehow gotten the purse to MDG, and all was well. I shouted back an endearment to MDG as we made our way to our gate.

I realize this little incident is a minor pothole compared to the huge sinkholes of TSA excesses, bungling, and idiocy. My point here is, that I don’t understand why the American public puts up with such horseshit from those whose salaries we pay. For fundamentally nothing.

I’d propose that the First Tuesday of every month be TSA Appreciation Day, wherein each person who travels on that day wear plastic Crocs, refuse to put them in the tub, and tell MDG to piss off. Then, the TSA would need a Removing Croc from Agent’s Ass Guy(RCAAG). Not the drama of the Boston Tea Party, perhaps, but something that nonetheless should happen.

-k-