Funniest Airport Security story EVER

[Super 80]

I made a point of getting another 2D cell Maglight for the Kitbag. So far no problems. I also have my child proof scissors which have been looked at twice, but they're allowed now. But they took my flat blade screw driver even though it was only an inch long with the small stubby handle after two months of passing through other screening points. I was livid. It is a legal length I said, to no avail.

"We're trying to make you safe," the white-shirted Gestapo-goon said.

"Safe! You just jeopardized the whole safety of the aircraft because now there's no way for me to access a cockpit fire behind a panel!" I screamed.

He just stood there holding my screwdriver with a dull blank stare.

What a bunch of morons. Remind me to go to Sears and get another small screwdriver. I'm not going to take a chance losing my Snap-On one.

 

[FN FAL]

Hmmm.... Choice between guns and wife....I think I'd pick the guns!

Haha! that's why a smart guy works those details out during the "negotiating" phase of the relationship.

Before I met my wife, I was contemplating dating this gal from the gym I worked out at. She was a part time aerobics instructor and full time police dispatcher. Dynamite phyisque. I had invested quite some time into getting to know this gal and pretty much secured a first date with her, we just hadn't picked the day to go out yet. Well, we are on the stairmasters together one afternoon and she makes some out of the blue comment about how her boy is never going to be allowed to go over to another kids house to play, if the father owns any guns at all...period. She also says that the only people that should be allowed to possess guns are the police and the military. I am already sensing the biggest pair of bolt cutters being positioned for my castration, when all the sudden I realize I'm not going through with the date. (Michigan U.P. girls, go figure?).

My wife supports my hobbies, even though she isn't a major player in them, so I'll have to vote that we have a tribute thread to all the great wives out there that support their pilot husbands and their hobbies.

As far as getting back to the subject of screening, I haven't had any problems with TSA at the airports I fly in and out of, because I'm not going through the screening process. I try to keep a rappor with some of these guys, but it is funny that I can keep my folding knife clipped onto the inside of my trouser pocket and walk out onto the ramp, while everybody else is going into the big glass cubicle to get patted down. Not to mention my duffle bag has nail clippers in it.

The biggest security pain in the ass I have run into, is the workers in the cargo sorting facility of the hub I fly out of. Some of them have gotten to be quite annoying. I have a security key to the building and can go in when nobody is there, much less when the place is in operation.

I land in their airplane, walk inside the building without so much as a challenge and walk outside to the parking lot, to drop my overnight bag and flight bag into the trunk of my car so I won't forget it. I then walk back inside and the same dumbass I said hi to on the way out the door, asks for ID. I don't have a problem with identifying myself, but when I don't see their ID plainly displayed on their person, I ask for it. You wouldn't believe the looks on their faces.

One chick even told me her ID was in her locker and explains to me that she didn't have to show it to me, because she works there and because she's wearing a top with the company logo and that she was in the building first (?)(which has direct access to the entire ramp of all the cargo operations on the field, including one passenger operation of national size). I said, "Lady, you better go get your ID card and fasten it according to airport, federal and company regulations, or go get your direct supervisor.

I had a similar confrontation with one of the male workers there. I asked him to show me his ramp I.D. after he carded me walking in the building. He's well within his duty to do so. I notice his I.D. is hanging around his neck and under his company hooded sweatshirt. So I ask to see it. He says "WHAT?" and gets an attitude look on his face.

I said, "As long as you are in a position to have access to my aircraft on the ramp and all the others out there...747's, DC-8's, 727's, Airbus's, DC-9's, then I have been charged by the FAA to challenge you also, so can I see your ID please?"

He whips it out and flashes it so fast, I cant even see if it's a library card or an ID card. So I ask him to show it to me one more time. He shows it just a bit slower this time and I'm satisfied, so I show him mine.

That dumbass snatches my company flight crew ID out of my hand. I was about ready to punch this idiot in his freaking throat.

I believe as pilot, working in operations on the field, I have a right to see the ID of the person requesting mine. I also believe I have the right to not have some box tosser grab my ID card out of my hands, especially when I am IN uniform and have a key to the building.

I made a complaint to my Chief Pilot and he seemed pretty irked that this person took my ID card out of my hands.

I personally am not going to jeopardize my job over this, but this guy is never going to see my ID card again, without someone from management present.

 

[avbug]

Just prior to 09/11, I got asked to do a week of contract work in a Lear in another town. An airline ticket had already been purchased for me; if I took the job I would have only a few minutes to grab a crash bag and go. The person making the request advised that some light maintenance needed doing, and asked me to take care of it while I was there.

I didn't have time for a tool bag, so I grabbed a small cardboard box, and tossed in the usual assortment of box cutters, picks and scrapers, screwdrivers, mirrors, quarter inch drive sockets, box end wrenches, safety wire and pliers, etc. A typical field kit. Someone drove me to a terminal, where made a dash for the flight.

When I passed through security, I was carrying the little box of tools. It made it through the x-ray scanner, along with my other gear. I scooped it up and headed for the gate, when a security specialist tapped me on the shoulder. She wanted to know what was in the box. She was joined by another person, who insisted on seeing the contents of the box.

They removed a box cutter, the kind with the breakable blades and renewable tips; I always carry several. Extending the blade, she said, "This is a weapon." No, I said, showing her my leatherman on my hip. This is a weapon. That's a tool. She put the cutter back and extracted a pick. "This is a weapon." She said. No, I replied. I removed a pen from her uniform and showed her the tip. This is a weapon, I said. It's the same diameter as a small bullet, and properly used, just as effective. I gave her back the pen, and she gave me back my pick.

So far a pleasant exchange, albeit a ridiculous one. She then spied my Robinson short reversible safety wire pliers, and extracted them from the box.

"What are these. I've never seen anything like this before."

"It's an aircraft tool, safety wire pliers."

"What are they used for?"

"Safety wiring things."

"This is not an aircraft tool. I've never seen such a thing used on an airplane." An additional security specialist is called over. "Have you seen anything like this, Ed?"

"No. You can't carry that on board."

"It's a pair of pliers. Every mechanic carries them. It's one of the most common tools used on an airplane."

"Bill, have you ever seen anything like this?" Another specialist called over. And another. Soon a small gaggle gathered, and I started to feel like a street performer. Universally the security folks agreed that the pliers seemed to represent something sinister and dangerous (while the box cutters, picks, and other sundry items didn't garner a yawn). At length it was decided that I could carry the items aboard if I could demonstrate the use of the safety wire pliers.

I removed a pair of diagonal cutters (can't call them dikes any more) from the box, and used some .032 safety wire to secure the handles together. I even made a nice 7-twist pigtail on the end and bent it over to finish the job with a crimp and a tuck. Looks of amazement all around. Truly ludicruous, but I did make it onto my flight.

I then placed an open fox full of picks, knives, box cutters, and various tools, in the over head bin of a cabin full of passengers, and away we went. Typical for pre-09/11. More recently, I've managed to lose a nice miniature spyderco, and a leatherman micra I foolishly forgot were on my person. And a pair of tweezers.

With these tweezers, I could pluck out your nose hair, causing considerable discomfort and possibly producing a tear. Fly me to Glascow, Montana, you imperialist dog, or I'll rip out your nosehair with no mercy.

On arrival at the destination, two individuals who refused to idenfity themselves or provide any form of identification refused to allow me to leave the terminal with my baggage until I showed them my ticket and ID. That nearly came to blows. Looking back, I'm sorry it didn't. Strictly on the grounds of failure to produce the ID, I believe I'd have been justified.

So much for flying the friendly skies.