Leaving New York (Madrid part 1)

I didn’t have much. I packed extremely light for Spain. No suitcases, just a couple backpacks on my shoulder. I wait in a stalled line looking at some fuckers running around a conveyor belt and think “what a bunch of stupid douchebags. I’m going to be late for my flight!” I already went to Iberia airlines terminal by mistake not realizing my flight to Madrid was American Airlines hosted through Iberia airlines. An extraneous ride on the air train loop put me in a sub-optimal mood. Then when it comes to my turn to put my stuff through the X-ray machine, I turn into a retarded chicken myself. “Simon Says put your shoes on the conveyor but not in a tray.” Ok easy enough...I used to be a pro at Simon Says in elementary school. Now the guard says “Put your bags on a tray” all the foreigners jump the gun and lose by putting their bags in trays. Haha. “Simon says put your bags on the conveyor but not in a tray. “ and the guard suddenly speeds up the directions. Lose Simon Says here and you look like a fool in front of a bunch of strangers. I begin to think “why does Simon say some things go on trays but other things don’t?” While I’m trying to figure out the logic to the madness the guard snaps me out of contemplation “Simon Says take off your belt and put all electronic devices in a tray.” 

People are such impatient fuckers and are starting to push 1/2 my stuff through the X-ray machine.... and interleaving their trays with mine on the conveyor. I’m wondering how to keep calm. Fine. I have 2 backpacks on my shoulder and start sorting my shit into trays with dozens of people onlookers behind me rolling their eyes. “Sir. Simon says put your iPad in a tray by itself.” I scurry back to the stack of trays in my black socks and slide my iPad onto a tray in the back of the line.” “Simon says take off your jacket, but DON’T put it on a tray.” When I get to the body scanner. “Simon also Says take off all inner jacket layers, too.” I feel like I’m a crazy chicken running between the mouth of a body screen machine and a conveyor belt feeding my life’s possessions into a stupid xray machine. 

The guards are annoying and unhelpful, trying to outdo each other to see who is the best Simon. If I were a guard I would make a catchy jingle to help people with the directions and bring joy to peoples’ lives: “Shoes, bags, jackets not on trays... Toiletries in ziploc bags under four ounces in trays, electronics on trays, except for iPads and laptops... which get their own trays.”

To speed up the queues, airports could make a fun carnival game out of this ridiculous airport security check and award prizes for fastest contestant. This game would be as fun as the “aim a power squirt gun at a stationary object for 30 seconds”. I wonder if all this nonsense came about because some Arabs blew up an airplane in the 1970s and make a mental note to self to write about the compelling history of islam and airline security. Then I realize the length of the conveyor belt after the x-ray machine is 5 feet... while the length of the belt before the X-ray machine is 10 feet. So I’m scrambling with pants dropping down, searching for the belt first before precariously exposing myself, then all valuable stuff like keys and electronics then bags. Trays are backing up into the X-ray machine. I’m shoving stuff back into my backpacks in random order because you have to collect your stuff in 1/2 the time you spent putting it onto the conveyor. I feel unsettled, and ready to fly.