In mid/late 2002 I had to travel to Toronto for a conference, flying back YTO-SFO-MEL. IIRC, you did US immigration clearance at YTO before boarding. I was a good boy and called Air Canada to confirm how early I had to be at the airport in Toronto. 2.5 hours they said. So I rocked up 2.5 hours before departure. The queue was mind-boggling. After about an hour I was getting anxious. An officious crone was prowling the queue and chastised me for arriving so late. Surprisingly, I held my tongue. (I don't remember the exact order of the queues, but anyway, what I remember next is...)
At the security checkpoint my stuff was inspected by a friendly Polish-Canadian guy (weird detail to remember). First, he wanted me to turn on the Firewire external hard-drive I was carrying. Alas, it was just a data store that I had no power source for until returning to the lab back home. He was nice about that. Then he found my little personal distress alarm (you know the ones: pull the cord, it screams). I had to demonstrate it (wisely muffling it in my jumper) and it got confiscated.
Then my backpack was swabbed. And then a machine went beep. And then I was asked if I had any heart medication. And then I was asked if I'd been near a military facility recently. And then my bag was swabbed again. And then it beeped again. And then I was being attended to by about four security guys and a supervisor and repeated mention of "explosive". And by then I was about as white as a Korean boyband member (I think I died a little!). The supervisor started filling out a form and asking me more questions, and I don't know how many more swabs were done until enough were negative to let me go.
And go I did... because there were 21 mins until my flight should depart. The Polish-Canadian guy said "you should run". I did. I reached the gate and what do you think happened next? "Excuse me sir, random search. Please remove your shoes for inspection. Please open your bag."
I made the flight. I sat (in Economy, but no companion and a window seat, thank god) and cried a little, and watched Monsters Inc on the overhead monitor, and prayed that my *pounding* headache would pass.
At SFO I went to the United lounge (onward flight was in Business) and asked the barman (using my drink coupon; do they still do that?) for something to relieve stress and kill my headache. He asked me one or two questions and delivered a Whiskey Sour. It was perfect. And then I boarded my plane home.
At the security checkpoint my stuff was inspected by a friendly Polish-Canadian guy (weird detail to remember). First, he wanted me to turn on the Firewire external hard-drive I was carrying. Alas, it was just a data store that I had no power source for until returning to the lab back home. He was nice about that. Then he found my little personal distress alarm (you know the ones: pull the cord, it screams). I had to demonstrate it (wisely muffling it in my jumper) and it got confiscated.
Then my backpack was swabbed. And then a machine went beep. And then I was asked if I had any heart medication. And then I was asked if I'd been near a military facility recently. And then my bag was swabbed again. And then it beeped again. And then I was being attended to by about four security guys and a supervisor and repeated mention of "explosive". And by then I was about as white as a Korean boyband member (I think I died a little!). The supervisor started filling out a form and asking me more questions, and I don't know how many more swabs were done until enough were negative to let me go.
And go I did... because there were 21 mins until my flight should depart. The Polish-Canadian guy said "you should run". I did. I reached the gate and what do you think happened next? "Excuse me sir, random search. Please remove your shoes for inspection. Please open your bag."
I made the flight. I sat (in Economy, but no companion and a window seat, thank god) and cried a little, and watched Monsters Inc on the overhead monitor, and prayed that my *pounding* headache would pass.
At SFO I went to the United lounge (onward flight was in Business) and asked the barman (using my drink coupon; do they still do that?) for something to relieve stress and kill my headache. He asked me one or two questions and delivered a Whiskey Sour. It was perfect. And then I boarded my plane home.