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You know that I’m not a fan of the TSA. The majority of things they do in no way, shape, or form, keep us safer in the slightest, and the fact that more planes haven’t crashed into more buildings is simply a question of timing, not of giving Grandma an anal-probe.
But… I have to give credit where credit is due.
Today, some 60-hours to Christmas, I walked into DIA to head home, the last flight of my last business trip of 2007. (A little over 150,000 actual miles flown, by the way. Ugh. But I’m not alone…)
Anyhow, I get to security, and there’s a line.
Wow, is there a line. It then occurs to me how freaking STUPID I was for scheduling my flight home today of all days. But so be it, nothing I can do now.
Insert the “24” theme here.
I walk to the First Class/Elite line. I get on it. 8:50am
I show my ID and ticket to the ID checking woman. She looks, clears me, and wishes me a happy holidays. 8:54am.
I get to the magnetometer, take off my shoes, belt, and watch. Take my laptop out, as well as my roll-of-poker-chip-business-cards-that-look-like-C4. 8:55am.
I walk through the Magnetometer: 8:55:45am.
I pick up my stuff, put my shoes, belt, and watch back on. 8:56:34am.
I get on the Tram to the A Gates. 8:58:20am.
I get off the Tram at the A Gates. 9:01:22am.
I get to the door of the President’s Club. 9:03:01am.
I’m sitting, drinking a bloody mary while my laptop boots up. 9:06am.
Wow. On one of the busiest holiday travel days of the year, with more than 65,000,000 people on the move, I got thru security in a little over six and a half minutes, and to the club, all checked in, in just under 17 minutes.
Credit where credit is due: The AVIS people had extra people working and shuttle busses to the terminals.
The TSA was polite, effective, had EVERY magnetometer working, and had enough people staffing. I actually went to the supervisor and congratulated him. I was amazed at how quick it went.
I wish, I wish, that EWR was as intelligent. Sadly, they are not. Perhaps it’s the attitude – Everyone at DIA smiled, was cordial, was nice to me. At EWR, you get “If you don’t like it, you can be callin’ my supervisor an’ shit.” Which is really kind of sad… Attitude really does make all the difference, I guess.
Anyhow…
“Son,” he said… “Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home.”
I. Am. Outta here.
More from Z-Hills…
PS: Thanks so much to Disaboom for their wonderful holiday party last night, despite a veritable blizzard. The warmth in the hearts of all the employees melted any drama we might have had from the snow and resulting six hours round-trip in the limo-bus to the event.
