Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Airport security

I see James has added a poll on the blog entitled, "Should John bring das boots to Founders Day?"

I'm inclined not to.

  1. I'm not sure we need any drunks trying to speed drink out of heavy glass. You could lose a tooth...
  2. In case we didn't cover it, while we were in Starkville last month for the alumni conference I happened to win an unexpected door prize--a brick from Old Main. The coolness factor dropped once we hit airport security in Jackson. The brick was in my carry-on bag, and it looks like people don't bring bricks on commercial flights very often. The person tending the x-ray machine must have thought I was smuggling a brick of cocaine. Of course they proceeded to search the bag while James and I explained the historical significance of the brick. Unimpressed, the head guard told me that he couldn't allow me to carry a brick on the plane as it could be used as a weapon (meanwhile another flyer is waived through with a large glass award plaque). He assured me that I could take the brick on the plane--it just couldn't be carried on. The conversation went roughly like this.


me: So you're saying I have to go check my bag.
guard: That's an option.
me: If I can't carry the brick on then I pretty much
have to check my bag.
guard: Yeah, that's an option. You can check your
bag if you want to.


Now, I'm still unsure of what my other options were. I guess I could have checked only the brick, which doesn't make too much sense as I'd still have to wait at baggage claim for the small pile of rubble to come tumbling down the conveyer in Austin. I will point out that the guy was very pleasant. I just couldn't follow the logic.

Anyway, we were on Continental and they charged me $15 for the bag check. I'm a little wary of bringing anything out of the ordinary with me in the future. If they didn't like a brick, I doubt they're going to like my two glass shoes.

1 comment:

James said...

Yeah, but think of the coolness factor when you roll up to The Grill with a case handcuffed to your wrist. You place it on the bar and then challenge someone to das boot while you ask the bartender to fill them up. I can see you've got the eye of the Jew already.