Monday, April 23, 2007
Why I hate SFO security
Lotus and I went up to Portland on April 11th, to prepare for my dad’s 85th birthday party which was Saturday, April 14th. Lotus is a pretty experienced flyer and was great on the trip, but I have to say that getting through SFO security is one of the most inane processes in the world. In fairness I hate the security people at SFO airport, they were awful to me when my mom died, I will never forgive them and I want bad things to happen to them. So I start this solo parenting/flying experience with a chip on my shoulder, but SFO security never lets me down. I am trudging through the line to show them my i.d. to get in another line to go through the metal detectors (I feel like from the start they could stream line this process), where rude woman number one is unhappy that I drop my i.d. Seeing as that I am trying to balance my diaper bag and Lotus’ toy bag while pushing the stroller which contains my wiggly and impatient kid and the only place to carry my id is in between my teeth, I thought I was doing okay. She also refuses to help me pick it up. So I have to put everything down get my driver’s license off the floor and then rebalance my belongings. So I hate her. Her only job is to look at identification; you think she could be a little more understanding or perhaps helpful.
Then we get in the next line. There are 10 security people standing around doing nothing, but only 2 x-ray machines open so we creep along. All the other parents in line have the same look of panic in their eyes. Our faces are wrought with tension that says that even though all of our kids are being good now, we know that could change at any moment and waiting in line is a toddler’s worst nightmare.
Behind me in line is an elderly couple, who are shuffling under the weight of their bags. Would it kill one of the ten security guards to offer to help them? I heard the gentleman tell three different guards he had a pace maker and they all kept ushering him along. When I finally to the x-ray machine they have no bins to place your stuff in and I can’t get anyone’s attention to get more. So have to drop all my stuff again to get more from one of the three unused x-ray stations. I finally host all my belongings on to the machine, which means a stroller, two bags, my shoes and Lotus’ shoes and Lotus balancing on my hip. When the gentleman behind me tells the guard who watches you enter the metal detector that he has a pace maker and they tell him that he’s in the wrong line and he has to get all his belongings to another line. So now I hate them more. We finally get through the detector and I am trying to gather my stuff on the other side, while holding Lotus. One of the guards informs me that I backing up the line. So I tell him to help me then. “How?” He asks indigently, “ How about opening my stroller?” “I don’t know how. Can’t you put your daughter down and do it?” “She’ll run off, just open it.” I refrain from calling him an idiot to his face. But he finally does get the stroller open, so at least he was sort of helpful.
I truly don’t understand how we are at all safer with clearly the world’s most disorganized and lazy people running the security show. This concludes my tirade of the day.
Then we get in the next line. There are 10 security people standing around doing nothing, but only 2 x-ray machines open so we creep along. All the other parents in line have the same look of panic in their eyes. Our faces are wrought with tension that says that even though all of our kids are being good now, we know that could change at any moment and waiting in line is a toddler’s worst nightmare.
Behind me in line is an elderly couple, who are shuffling under the weight of their bags. Would it kill one of the ten security guards to offer to help them? I heard the gentleman tell three different guards he had a pace maker and they all kept ushering him along. When I finally to the x-ray machine they have no bins to place your stuff in and I can’t get anyone’s attention to get more. So have to drop all my stuff again to get more from one of the three unused x-ray stations. I finally host all my belongings on to the machine, which means a stroller, two bags, my shoes and Lotus’ shoes and Lotus balancing on my hip. When the gentleman behind me tells the guard who watches you enter the metal detector that he has a pace maker and they tell him that he’s in the wrong line and he has to get all his belongings to another line. So now I hate them more. We finally get through the detector and I am trying to gather my stuff on the other side, while holding Lotus. One of the guards informs me that I backing up the line. So I tell him to help me then. “How?” He asks indigently, “ How about opening my stroller?” “I don’t know how. Can’t you put your daughter down and do it?” “She’ll run off, just open it.” I refrain from calling him an idiot to his face. But he finally does get the stroller open, so at least he was sort of helpful.
I truly don’t understand how we are at all safer with clearly the world’s most disorganized and lazy people running the security show. This concludes my tirade of the day.
