Just went through security at BOS. I loaded up the bin, and chatted a bit with the guy asking about belts and watches.
"Laptop?" He asked.
"Yeah, but it's a flippy bag," I replied as I unzipped the split to lay it flat.
"Oh, I see. Nice job sticking your belt in your coat pocket, keeps it all together."
"Yep."
"Ok, right through here."
"I'd like to opt out, please."
I could see him get confused. He looked at the older guy standing next to the magnetometer.
"Sure, right through here," old guy said after a few seconds. I walk through, nothing happens, so I keep going, looking around for the designated TSA gropemaster.
Nothing.
I walk up to the output of the bag scanner, and start accumulating my belongings. I keep expecting someone to object.
No one does.
Hooray for the most theatrical of security theaters. There's a big expensive box that everyone has to go through, unless you don't want to, in which case you can pretty much just ignore it all.
Sent via DROID on Verizon Wireless
"Laptop?" He asked.
"Yeah, but it's a flippy bag," I replied as I unzipped the split to lay it flat.
"Oh, I see. Nice job sticking your belt in your coat pocket, keeps it all together."
"Yep."
"Ok, right through here."
"I'd like to opt out, please."
I could see him get confused. He looked at the older guy standing next to the magnetometer.
"Sure, right through here," old guy said after a few seconds. I walk through, nothing happens, so I keep going, looking around for the designated TSA gropemaster.
Nothing.
I walk up to the output of the bag scanner, and start accumulating my belongings. I keep expecting someone to object.
No one does.
Hooray for the most theatrical of security theaters. There's a big expensive box that everyone has to go through, unless you don't want to, in which case you can pretty much just ignore it all.
Sent via DROID on Verizon Wireless
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