Travels

Traveling by plane is an increasingly worse experience

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Those times when traveling by plane was a real pleasure

5:45 am, time of my arrival at Dublin airport. My flight leaves at 7:00 am towards Frankfurt, Germany. As an experienced traveler that I consider myself at this point, I have everything well prepared and organized. With the boarding pass printed from home and the hand luggage measured and calculated, I believe that I have met all the necessary requirements to go directly to the security control area, pass through it in an agile way and arrive without major problems at the boarding gate. Oh dear friend, always so optimistic! I almost forgot that I am in an airport, is said of that place in which the destination always keeps an ace in the sleeve.

In a toiletry bag I carry my four bathroom utensils

In my small suitcase I keep the personal computer that accompanies me on most of my trips. As a good predictor, I have separated any other container containing any type of liquid from the rest of the luggage. You know, the shaving cream, the deodorant, the toothpaste, all in tiny size, it wasn't because of one of those mysteries of life I was tempted to use the mentioned super fluids to make some kind of explosive while I I meet on the plane on my way to Frankfurt.

It is my turn to pass the security check so that, very diligently, I open my suitcase, take out the personal computer and the small bag in which I store the liquids and arrange them in one of the trays separating them from the rest of the luggage. Proud of myself, I look around with the face of "Hey, let it be clear to all of you that I know the career lesson". Nobody gives a damn. You will tell me, it is just after 6:00 in the morning and the rest of the souls in pain who are in the airport brings them totally without care that I have masterfully organized for my trip.

My turn came, and with it the magical moment of the morning. I put my suitcase in the right place to go through that little tunnel of terror loaded with X-rays in search of guns, dildos and other sharp objects. Next I place the tray with the computer and the small bag, open so that the content is clearly visible. First disagreement with the lady in charge of controlling this transcendental process: β€œDo you carry a personal computer or any liquid in your suitcase?”He asks me in a robotic voice and his gaze lost in the most absolute emptiness. I think: "Madam, don't you see that I have already separated them and they are in this tray in front of you? And by the way, good morning"But I say:"no ma'am i don't wear anyβ€œ.

I advise you to carry a small plastic bag in your suitcase

The conversation continues. She: "Do you have any plastic bag to place the liquids you carry?", I: "No, but I have put them in this small bag, which by the way is made of plastic, separated from the rest of the luggage so that you can easily check it". She: "I'm sorry, you'll have to go find a plastic bag to put all your liquids". The situation begins to stain itself with surrealism, I look around with an incredulous face and all I find is a queue of faceless people waiting for their turn to pass through the tunnel of terror. I can not believe it.

At that moment I tell myself - Sergi, you have two options. Option number one, start a discussion with this useless and try to make him understand that the plastic bag is not necessary since the liquids are in a bag that is responsible for doing the required functions. Option number two, forget about messes and get a damn plastic bag - Finally I say: β€œAnd where can I get a plastic bag?". The lady, without even looking at me, points a finger at a machine on a nearby wall. A machine similar to those old in which throwing a coin you get a ball with a small toy or a treat. Well, in this happy machine you can find the damn plastic bags. And yes, you have to put a coin, a 1 euro coin. 1 euro for a plastic bag. Ah well, wait, there were two. Incredible but true.

This little ball with two plastic bags inside cost me 1 euro. Somebody explain to me what the happy plastic bag was necessary for.

So I opened the damn ball, grabbed one of the plastic bags, put what was in it and placed it, unsealed, inside the bag. The lady in charge of security control did not look at what she was wearing or how she had put it on. The absurdity of the situation touched the stupidity. My utensils and I passed the tunnel of terror. Once again I had the opportunity to confirm thatair travel is an increasingly worse experience.

From now on I will have to include the famous ball in my hand luggage

And to all this, I wonder: Is this absurdity really necessary? Have airport employees forgotten that without us, their customers, they would lose their jobs? How much does it cost to give some good customer service today? Are we all going crazy? Will I be the one who is becoming majara?

Anyway, at least when I landed in Frankfurt it was sunny.

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