Teller1900
En-Route
Now I dislike the TSA as much as the next guy. In general, though, I don't have anything against the agents, just the organization. At least here in Augusta the agents are all nice people and fun to talk to, even if I think their job is a complete waste. There are, however, quite a few TSA agents who take it to the other end of the spectrum with a sense of empowerment that goes well beyond absurd. I met one of those types last night.
When we board our passengers in Boston, we have to ask if they're going to Rockland or Augusta so we can accurately mark their plane-side-checked bags before tossing them into the cargo compartment. Most people answer with a smile, then get on the plane as I write the destination on the little yellow tag. This older gentleman in a TSA polo shirt was the second passenger to approach the plane as we were boarding the last flight out of Boston. He dropped his bag at (almost on) my feet and turned to walk up the airstairs...not so much as a nod in greeting. The lack of recognition (or even basic human kindness) doesn't really surprise me any more, but I still need to know where he's going, as he doesn't even have a yellow tag on the bag, let alone a destination marking. As I takes goes to step up onto the first stair I tap him on the arm and inquire "I'm sorry, sir, are you going to Rockland or Augusta...we have to mark your bag?"
"Rockland" is all he says, without even looking at me, as he walks onto the plane. I look over at the gate agent standing next to me who rolls her eyes and laughs.
We finish boarding our 16 passengers and I go back to the back to help the rampies toss all the plane side bags. With everything loaded, the baggage compartment is full, front to back, top to bottom...it even takes a little extra force to get the door closed. The plane is sitting pretty low on the tail with the nose strut only about an inch from full extension. The paperworks shows about 1,020 lbs of bags in the back...this is going to suck when we get to Rockland, as there's only me and one station agent to get everything unloaded and sorted.
I get the door closed and walk through the cabin to make sure everyone is belted and carry on bags are stowed. I give my exit row speech to the three people in the over-wing exit seats, and get a laugh from all three of them ("In the unlikely event that we need these exits..."). Then I have to give the speach to the TSA guy who is sitting in seat 1A...right behind the cockpit, next to the airstair door (technically an exit row). "Sir, I just have to let you know that you're in an exit seat here..."
"Ya, that's fine, how long is the flight?"
"Umm...40 minutes, sir. In the unlikely event that we need it, push this button in..."
"Ya, I got it, do you not have an air conditioner in this thing?"
"Ya, we do, but we have to have an engine running first...and we will just as soon as I finish this. Push the button in, lift the handle and push, everyone will follow you out. Are you comfortable sitting here?"
"Ya."
At this point I'm fuming. I take my coat off and close up the closet, then take my seat in the cockpit. I've had plenty of ****ed off people on my flights before, but seriously...this guy is in uniform and he can't keep it together. I tell the captain about the grumpy TSA guy, and he gives me a good warning "watch out, we're lucky he hasn't come up here and taken the plane from us because we're doing something wrong...he is the TSA, after all, he owns all this." He's right, too, I can't believe I forgot that we work in the TSA's house...it all makes sense.
So, we fly up to Rockland. It's a nice flight and I make a semi decent landing. The captain shuts down the left engine only - we're going to do a single-engine turn to get out of here as quick as we can. I give my little speech to everyone before going down the stairs: "Welcome to Rockland. As you get off the aircraft, please don't go behind the wing - it's a restricted area back there. Please head straight inside, we are going to leave the right engine running, and all your bags - including plane-side checked items - will be inside in baggage claim. Please watch your head and your step, the door is a little bit lower than the cabin. Have a good night!"
The grumpy TSA guy is the second person off the plane. With a queue of people behind him he stops right next to me at the base of the stairs. He doesn't make eye contact, just looks back towards the back of the plane. "They'll have everything inside for you, sir."
"I just had a plane side bag."
"Yes, sir, that'll be inside too."
"You don't bring it out here?"
"No sir, not at Rockland or Augusta."
"I'll just go get it," he says as he takes a step towards the wing.
"I'm sorry, sir, I can't let you do that, it'll be in bag claim for you in just a minute or two."
"I'm TSA, I'll just go get it" he takes another step around me.
I practically have to jump to stay in front of him. I know he's TSA because he has their polo on, but he has no ID displayed (not that it matters, TSA doesn't have the clearance to walk around the plane, ID or not). "Sir, do you have some ID?" I demand.
"No, it's right there on the ground, I'll just grab it."
"No sir..."
"Why don't you bring them out here like at every other airport?"
I really wanted to say 'Because I just told you we don't' or 'because you're being an unprofessional jackass,' but I suppose both of those options would be equally unprofessional. Instead I just told him "because there's only one man working the ramp tonight and we have almost eleven hundred pounds of bags to sort, and about five minutes in which to sort them. I'd be happy to let you back there if you were properly displaying your ID, even though your ID doesn't give you ramp access, but you're not. Please go inside now, your bag will be in as quickly as we can get it."
He finally did what I was asking for the first time since we left Boston, and all it took was me physically restraining him to keep him from breaking a few federal laws. And all because we were going to delay him about 5 minutes in getting his bag. Some people...I swear.
When we board our passengers in Boston, we have to ask if they're going to Rockland or Augusta so we can accurately mark their plane-side-checked bags before tossing them into the cargo compartment. Most people answer with a smile, then get on the plane as I write the destination on the little yellow tag. This older gentleman in a TSA polo shirt was the second passenger to approach the plane as we were boarding the last flight out of Boston. He dropped his bag at (almost on) my feet and turned to walk up the airstairs...not so much as a nod in greeting. The lack of recognition (or even basic human kindness) doesn't really surprise me any more, but I still need to know where he's going, as he doesn't even have a yellow tag on the bag, let alone a destination marking. As I takes goes to step up onto the first stair I tap him on the arm and inquire "I'm sorry, sir, are you going to Rockland or Augusta...we have to mark your bag?"
"Rockland" is all he says, without even looking at me, as he walks onto the plane. I look over at the gate agent standing next to me who rolls her eyes and laughs.
We finish boarding our 16 passengers and I go back to the back to help the rampies toss all the plane side bags. With everything loaded, the baggage compartment is full, front to back, top to bottom...it even takes a little extra force to get the door closed. The plane is sitting pretty low on the tail with the nose strut only about an inch from full extension. The paperworks shows about 1,020 lbs of bags in the back...this is going to suck when we get to Rockland, as there's only me and one station agent to get everything unloaded and sorted.
I get the door closed and walk through the cabin to make sure everyone is belted and carry on bags are stowed. I give my exit row speech to the three people in the over-wing exit seats, and get a laugh from all three of them ("In the unlikely event that we need these exits..."). Then I have to give the speach to the TSA guy who is sitting in seat 1A...right behind the cockpit, next to the airstair door (technically an exit row). "Sir, I just have to let you know that you're in an exit seat here..."
"Ya, that's fine, how long is the flight?"
"Umm...40 minutes, sir. In the unlikely event that we need it, push this button in..."
"Ya, I got it, do you not have an air conditioner in this thing?"
"Ya, we do, but we have to have an engine running first...and we will just as soon as I finish this. Push the button in, lift the handle and push, everyone will follow you out. Are you comfortable sitting here?"
"Ya."
At this point I'm fuming. I take my coat off and close up the closet, then take my seat in the cockpit. I've had plenty of ****ed off people on my flights before, but seriously...this guy is in uniform and he can't keep it together. I tell the captain about the grumpy TSA guy, and he gives me a good warning "watch out, we're lucky he hasn't come up here and taken the plane from us because we're doing something wrong...he is the TSA, after all, he owns all this." He's right, too, I can't believe I forgot that we work in the TSA's house...it all makes sense.
So, we fly up to Rockland. It's a nice flight and I make a semi decent landing. The captain shuts down the left engine only - we're going to do a single-engine turn to get out of here as quick as we can. I give my little speech to everyone before going down the stairs: "Welcome to Rockland. As you get off the aircraft, please don't go behind the wing - it's a restricted area back there. Please head straight inside, we are going to leave the right engine running, and all your bags - including plane-side checked items - will be inside in baggage claim. Please watch your head and your step, the door is a little bit lower than the cabin. Have a good night!"
The grumpy TSA guy is the second person off the plane. With a queue of people behind him he stops right next to me at the base of the stairs. He doesn't make eye contact, just looks back towards the back of the plane. "They'll have everything inside for you, sir."
"I just had a plane side bag."
"Yes, sir, that'll be inside too."
"You don't bring it out here?"
"No sir, not at Rockland or Augusta."
"I'll just go get it," he says as he takes a step towards the wing.
"I'm sorry, sir, I can't let you do that, it'll be in bag claim for you in just a minute or two."
"I'm TSA, I'll just go get it" he takes another step around me.
I practically have to jump to stay in front of him. I know he's TSA because he has their polo on, but he has no ID displayed (not that it matters, TSA doesn't have the clearance to walk around the plane, ID or not). "Sir, do you have some ID?" I demand.
"No, it's right there on the ground, I'll just grab it."
"No sir..."
"Why don't you bring them out here like at every other airport?"
I really wanted to say 'Because I just told you we don't' or 'because you're being an unprofessional jackass,' but I suppose both of those options would be equally unprofessional. Instead I just told him "because there's only one man working the ramp tonight and we have almost eleven hundred pounds of bags to sort, and about five minutes in which to sort them. I'd be happy to let you back there if you were properly displaying your ID, even though your ID doesn't give you ramp access, but you're not. Please go inside now, your bag will be in as quickly as we can get it."
He finally did what I was asking for the first time since we left Boston, and all it took was me physically restraining him to keep him from breaking a few federal laws. And all because we were going to delay him about 5 minutes in getting his bag. Some people...I swear.
on the flight that actually was from the agency, it turned out that he was really somebody who had just once worked on a computer contract for the FAA.
