I never thought it possible to be culture shocked returning your home country, but indeed, it is. I got to the Atlanta airport yesterday, and sitting in the food court waiting for my flight, I got to listen to people talking about American Idol, Nascar, and celebrity gossip. And see lots of fat people. And listen to mothers tell their kids to “git” back over here.
Yes, I’m back in America, and southern America at that.
The flight was uneventful, but still, reminded me of why I hate flying. In Stuttgart, I was subjected to two bag searches of my fragilely packed bags. And worst of all, I had to go through security twice, in the most assinine display of paranoia I’ve ever seen. I went through security, got my bag rifled through, wanded, felt up, etc, and then, thinking I was done, walked to my gate. Where there was another security line, where they did the same thing again.
Um, excuse me? I just did this 30 seconds ago. I’m behind security, so there’s no way anyone is here who hasn’t already been through. What, pray tell, is the reason for doing it again? I asked the officers running their hands over my crotch and pulling my bag apart again for the second time in less than a minute why this was, and they just said it was Delta Airlines’ policy. Right. So apparently, the identical security gate behind me wasn’t good enough, so they have to do it again.
You could write a book on why that is patently absurd, and why I now don’t think I’ll ever fly Delta airlines again. Another example of why the paranoia of the US has done nothing more but inconvenience a whole lot of people without actually increasing security at all.
By the way, it was my lucky day–I got searched again at Atlanta, and had to have the customs guy pull my bags apart too. At least he was nice about it.
I hate flying.