US Customs

The customs queue we were in was not to leave Canadia, but to arrive in Amrika.

So, all of the issues we have had getting into Amrika, are recreated here. While I stand patiently in the queue, I wonder if this is in fact a psychological ploy by the customs boffins. I know that I am attributing to them a collective intellect that is most probably undeserved, but I began to wonder if the delays were a tactic to undermine all of us undeserving miscreants.

I've seen the same cop shows they have. Sweat the suspect in the interview for an hour before the detective is ready to see him. That'll rattle him. Same here. If the queue is going too quickly, send some staff for lunch.

I noticed as we entered the customs queueing area, a sign saying the use of cellphones in the area is prohibited, just like every other airport I have ever been to. Apparently, I was the only one who read it. There were so many who just had to phone or text their loved ones, or tweetees, with their every thought. Perhaps they did know about the rules, because by the second fold from the front, nobody was on their phone. Perhaps they had just run out of people to talk to.

I mentioned that the queue we were in was about 2.5 times the size of the other one. Did I mention that their were more staff in the other one as well? Are you surprised? At customs, I needed to do that whole fingerprint thing again. Didn't last time, now that I think about it. Sarah struggled to fit her tiny hand on the same pad that I had squeezed my neanderthal paw onto. Go figure!

Once we get past the customs goons, we need to drop our bags. There is a guy there reciting some sort of reggae poem about today being Monday, tomorrow being Wednesday, and Tuesday occurring some time next week. Very cheerful, jovial chap. Not some dope-head traveller, he's staff. There to help you get your bag onto the belt. Wheels facing up, maahn.

Then we queue yet again. This time for security screening. One woman tried to go down what appeared to be a short cut, only to be told that this way is for random selections. He then decides that the fat white guy would make a good random selection. Oddly, I pass the test, so blend back into the queue for scanning. Bonus, I am now about 15 people ahead of Sarah in the queue.

I have listened to her "thoughtful and constructive suggestions" over the last few flights, and have already transferred any items out of my pockets, into a side pocket in my backpack. As a result, I go through quickly without failing that test either. If I had failed that test, I would have had to take a trip through the full-body stand-up tanning booth. I did one of those in a previous airport. Calgary, I think. Didn't notice any improvement to my gothic tan, though.

We both got through without the need for the tanning booth (seriously, does Sarah need a tanning top-up?), and then popped upstairs to the Air Canadia lounge. A quick snack and waited till boarding time.