Ok. So I almost missed
Ok. So I almost missed my plane. Fucking airline. You know, I completely understand the need for increased security and I have no issues with cooperation during the entire check-in and boarding process... however, rudeness is uncalled for... getting the occasional pain-in-the-arse passenger does not give you the right to label everyone as the same. Since my flight was phucked on the 2nd, I had to buy a one way ticket home. One way tickets are automatically flagged as security risks, so I knew I was in for the not-quite-body-cavity-thorough search when I arrived for my flight. They did a complete search, wipe down, and scan of the luggage I was checking aboard... the typical explosive residue search and such... luckily, my dirty undies and bathroom travel bag didn't set off any alarms... heh. 
Actually, since I only packed for the days I originally planned to be there, I ended up doing laundry at EL's and most of my clothes were freshly washed. EL and I said our see-ya-soons and I headed for the gate. I arrived at the security check point just as I heard "final boarding call for clayton can't-get-his-ass-to-the-gate"... that was me. I hate leaving her. I hate leaving her. Did I mention that I hate leaving her? Anyhoo, I asked the security guy if he could get someone to call the gate desk or walk over and let them know that I was there... especially since I was flagged for the Spanish Inquisition. They flipped out on me. Obviously, asking for a simple courtesy given my respectful cooperation and their closing boarding 15 minutes early was an admission of some Al Queida connection. Oh yeah buddy, I have a thermonuclear device shoved up my ass. Praise Alah. Fuck you. So I start jumping up and down at the security desk while yelling down the concourse. "Hey!! It's me! Clayton!! I'm here dammit! Don't leave! I'll be right there as soon as these fucktards finish molesting me! I'm here!!!!!!" (I didn't actually say "fucktards" at the airport security checkpoint, but the rest is pretty accurate.) The gate door agent just so happened to be the same supervisor that called me a smart ass at the Continental counter two days ago when she couldn't understand my schedule and I pulled out a chart and said "well let me give you something color coded to help you". Fortunately, EL pulled her aside and did some woman to woman explaining and worked everything out and she didn't hold a grudge. She waved and smiled and yelled back that the plane was leaving without me. Payback is a bitch, ain't it? Meanwhile, the prodding, frisking, and fondling continued and tried to make small talk with the dickhead security folks... damn... no one appreciates sarcasm anymore. Either that or they just didn't understand me. The gate lady comes over with a big grin and asked me where I'd been... I told her that I was just outside the concourse and they should still be boarding. I was the only person not on the plane. She told me that she was just playing with me and that she'd already told the pilot I was on my way and they were waiting... then she added "you'd have been on time if you weren't spending so much time with that purple headed girl"... I just laughed... then I ran... ran across the concourse, down the jetway, and into the aircraft full of passengers and crew that were all waiting on me... all waiting on me because I hate leaving her. (1:19CST)
As my plane enters Houston Intercontinental airspace, I am dreading going into the office. I arranged to get a ride downtown from the airport, but I told them the wrong terminal. I think this day needs to end soon. (2:29CST)
Actually, since I only packed for the days I originally planned to be there, I ended up doing laundry at EL's and most of my clothes were freshly washed. EL and I said our see-ya-soons and I headed for the gate. I arrived at the security check point just as I heard "final boarding call for clayton can't-get-his-ass-to-the-gate"... that was me. I hate leaving her. I hate leaving her. Did I mention that I hate leaving her? Anyhoo, I asked the security guy if he could get someone to call the gate desk or walk over and let them know that I was there... especially since I was flagged for the Spanish Inquisition. They flipped out on me. Obviously, asking for a simple courtesy given my respectful cooperation and their closing boarding 15 minutes early was an admission of some Al Queida connection. Oh yeah buddy, I have a thermonuclear device shoved up my ass. Praise Alah. Fuck you. So I start jumping up and down at the security desk while yelling down the concourse. "Hey!! It's me! Clayton!! I'm here dammit! Don't leave! I'll be right there as soon as these fucktards finish molesting me! I'm here!!!!!!" (I didn't actually say "fucktards" at the airport security checkpoint, but the rest is pretty accurate.) The gate door agent just so happened to be the same supervisor that called me a smart ass at the Continental counter two days ago when she couldn't understand my schedule and I pulled out a chart and said "well let me give you something color coded to help you". Fortunately, EL pulled her aside and did some woman to woman explaining and worked everything out and she didn't hold a grudge. She waved and smiled and yelled back that the plane was leaving without me. Payback is a bitch, ain't it? Meanwhile, the prodding, frisking, and fondling continued and tried to make small talk with the dickhead security folks... damn... no one appreciates sarcasm anymore. Either that or they just didn't understand me. The gate lady comes over with a big grin and asked me where I'd been... I told her that I was just outside the concourse and they should still be boarding. I was the only person not on the plane. She told me that she was just playing with me and that she'd already told the pilot I was on my way and they were waiting... then she added "you'd have been on time if you weren't spending so much time with that purple headed girl"... I just laughed... then I ran... ran across the concourse, down the jetway, and into the aircraft full of passengers and crew that were all waiting on me... all waiting on me because I hate leaving her. (1:19CST)As my plane enters Houston Intercontinental airspace, I am dreading going into the office. I arranged to get a ride downtown from the airport, but I told them the wrong terminal. I think this day needs to end soon. (2:29CST)
The security crew at Colorado Springs are all a bunch of fucktards. They were complete dipshits when I flew back and as near as I could tell none of them are capable of finding their own ass in the dark with a flashlight.
I got the same security treatment as you and it was the very definition of the appearance of security with only the motions for the cheap seats. While I sat there I thought of nearly a dozen ways I could have brought on something that could either do bodily harm or take down the aircraft based on the performance of that security crew. And that’s not even counting the old “gift card through the jugular” technique explored in an episode of “24” a couple weeks ago.
A bunch of uniformed dildos they are. They should be guarding a WalMart someplace.
I fly one way a lot so I get flagged for that reason. What? Al Queida wouldn’t spring for RT tickets?? Or maybe it’s just my name---Mary Browne----that strikes fear in the heart of the whole profiling system. Good thing you have EL to make it all worth it. ;)
Ok I have to admit that was pretty funny what the lady at the gate did. I never knew airline personnel had a sense of humor.
But check-ins still suck, I agree.
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