Wednesday, May 9, 2012

I hate McCarran. Hateithateithateit.

One of the cool things about blogging is that I get to see what country my readers are in.  I just love that.  Unfortunately, I can't tell what city or state they're in, so I don't know if anyone here is from Las Vegas.

If you are, don't worry, I'd never trash your town.  But can I please trash your airport?  Please?  Just for a minute?venge, because I can't imagine any other reason they did this.

Let me start with the good stuff.  McCarran Airport has two things that you won't find in many other airports.  The first is, of course, slot machines.  The second is free WiFi.  I'm guessing the slot machines probably pay for the WiFi.  It's all good there.

What I really hate about McCarran is going through security with all those people who never, ever travel anywhere else, and still haven't figured out after...what's it been now...EIGHT YEARS...that you can't take a liter of scotch on the plane in your carryon.  And they make a big issue about it every single time.  While you wait behind them with your shoes in your hand and your laptop hanging out of your bag and you really just want to go home and the security folks are this far from a nervous breakdown.

So yesterday the guards got their revenge.  Or at least I'm assuming it was revenge.
In front of me in the security line was a very old man in a wheelchair.  As I waited, the guards insisted that he get out of his chair and go through the full body scanner.

It took him a very long time for him to struggle out of his chair.  They then asked him to stand (which I'm surprised he could do at all) and wait as they swabbed his chair.

Only after they carried the chair all the way around the security area, which took over a minute, they invited the man to go into the full body scanner.  Very slowly he struggled his way in, barely able to step up the slight ramp into the scanner and place his feet in position.

Then they asked him to raise his arms above his head.  Which he again did, very slowly and shakily.

Finally, he was allowed to go ahead to his chair, which was way down by the end of the belt.  I have no idea how me managed to stay on his feet as he shuffled to his chair.  Only when he was in his chair did they allow me to go through.  Probably five minutes had passed, and there were at least ten people in line just to go through the scanner.

Oh, I forgot to mention...there was a regular metal detector next to us, but nobody was allowed to go through it.  

Ah, well, we all made it home okay. 

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