Stuck In Sacramento

At the moment Brody and I are stuck in the security line at Sacramento’s airport.  We’re flying to Atlanta, then on to Nashville – or we were supposed to.  Our flight takes off in a few minutes and we’re almost certainly going to miss it.

Why the line has stopped moving?  Well, after going through the metal detectors and having your belongings run through the TSA’s scanners, if there is any indication that you might be a bad guy, you’re held for further screening.  An elderly gentleman with a hip replacement set off the metal detectors and was ushered to a seat to wait his turn to be wanded.  But he took off instead.

As soon as the TSA realized he was gone a swarm of agents rushed in, closed off our terminal, stopped the belts, and we’ve been sitting here ever since.  We’re next in line.  We literally standing right by the metal detectors, our stuff is on the conveyor belt, our shoes are off, our belts are off.  We were two minutes from free.

Poor guy.  He’s probably at a Cinnabon somewhere completely oblivious, totally unaware that now about a thousand people are stuck in security, business are closed down, flights are delayed and all because of his dadgum fake hip.

By the way, it’s amazing to watch how differently we react to minor stresses like travel delays.  I’m blogging.  There’s a lady taking a nap.  And then there’s the loud woman way back in the line giving some powerless ticket checker a piece of her mind.  Anger changes nothing.  It just makes the wait worse for the rest of us.