Thursday, June 23, 2005

Keeping America Safe from Terrorists and Me

As I ran into Syracuse's airport a little over an hour before my scheduled flight to Charlotte, NC, (where I would then catch a connecting flight to head to good ol' Houston, TX) I had no idea about the kind of trouble I was getting myself into. It's hard imagining having any kind of security inspection-related problems when you're leaving from an airport like Syracuse's. It's like flying out of a closet. Well, sure enough, the local TSA guards at the airport had a problem with me and placed me through this ridiculous inspection. And this wasn't just any ordinary inspection. This was THE mother of all inspections. Apparently, I had to get the guard that took their job so seriously, that they made me miss my flight to Houston in an effort to search every single piece of article of clothing in my bag, and every inch of fabric on my body. He even made me try to take off the buttons on my khaki shorts out of fear that, "something might be inside of them." Like, what?! I spent over 45 minutes being searched by this overzealous prick in Syracuse. It was ridiculous. I had to wait till the next day to catch an early flight to head to DC, and then head to Houston on a connecting flight. I finally arrived early the next day, and I hadn't missed much, but still, it was the principal of the thing. I felt violated after that thorough ass search. There was no reason why I should've had to have gone through that crap in Syracuse and miss my flight. None whatsoever.

Syracuse airport guards: Keeping America's "middle of nowhere" cities and towns safe from them evil terrorists and people named "Ray" since 2001.


Blogger Freebird said...

WTF?! Your buttons? That's crazy.

8:59 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I guess they must have been trying to justice their Homeland Security budget . . .


4:04 PM  
Blogger Robert said...

That's outrageous. I understand being thorough but to search you long enough that you miss your plane? I'd definitely be doing some major b*tchin' to the supervisor.

11:41 PM  

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