Those people who have travelled with me know that I’m the one who tends to get “extra attention” when going through security. On our way out to Colorado my bag spent quite a lot of time in the x-ray machine. Security personnel explained that I was carrying a pair of scissors. Not a little pair of nail scissors, but a big pair. This was a shock, as I was pretty sure I hadn’t done something that dumb, but I started to doubt myself when people armed with big scanning technology forcefully insisted that in fact I did, and I’d have to hang around for a search. The way she said it implied that I really should know better, and that they see people like me all the time, and although clearly not a terrorist, I shouldn’t even bother to try to fool them, or expect to get something as obvious as scissors through security, I mean who do I think I am, and what was I thinking, wasting valuable time, and frankly I should be ejected from the airport now, as a simpleton, and have my airport privileges removed for life. Hmmm…yes, that about captures her tone.
There were no scissors in my bag. The security guy swabbing my bag (in that “I’m just checking your bag as an objective and open-minded observer, but I know you’re hiding something” way they do) was very surprised. I wonder who’s bag they mistook mine for, and which flight the big scissors went on?
Which all reminds me: Apologies to my fellow traveller yesterday, a lady at Gatwick North security, who I punched in the forehead while I was putting my jacket back on.
But…Colorado. It’s a remarkable place. Arriving at Denver you see what appears to be the flattest expanse of land anywhere, but turn around and… wow! There are The Rockies. At this point, I didn’t feel any different, but Denver itself is already 1.6km above sea level, and some of the places we were visiting were getting on for 4km up. As a result some shortness of breath and other problems followed. But nothing serious. It does, however, explain why supermarkets stock oxygen.
