LAX, heading home and security madness

“You do not need to pay solicitors. They are not associated with this airport.” That’s one of the automated announcements at LAX, which made me laugh as Los Angeles is the most litigious city on earth (for American readers, in England, “solicitors” means “attorneys”).

I am finally on my way home. It’s been a hell of a trip. I left Gatwick on 27 December, attended my old friend’s wedding in North Carolina, had an insane trip starting off at 3.30am, getting on two planes, hiring a car and then driving for four hours before reaching Acapulco for New Year’s as it was in full swing at 6pm, drove back to Mexico City, flew to Merida, spend a week there, then changed plans at the last minute to fly to LA via Houston where I picked up a new, exciting job and finally here I am, in an airport waiting for my long flight back to London.

One thing I have learnt: the US airport security people – the Transport Security Administration – are out of control. Too much budget, too much power and not enough people standing up to them. Americans are not exactly backward in coming forward, but there is also a strange fearful respect of authority in this land. Plus of course who wants the hassle? You put up with it because you know these lunatics are just itching to ruin your day by holding you in a small room while you miss your flight.

The amount of security is so over the top. Flying to LA from Mexico, I went though Houston, and by the time I got out at LAX I had been through no less than eight security checks. I had emptied out pockets three times (four times?); taken off my shoes twice; shown my passport to god knows how many people; and throughout the whole thing not one person in authority said a single pleasant thing. They are just *waiting* for you to crack.

What was particularly bad at LAX was a strange screening process they have introduced. Rather than hand over your luggage at the check-in desk, where they then stick it on a carousel, and you wander off, at LAX they ask you to take it after check-in to one of four x-ray machines in each corner of the check-in area. There you have to do the airport zig-zag, before waiting in line, handing over your baggage to a grunting mute, before waiting in another line in order to point at your bag and say “that’s mine” when you see you bag bandly handed by some bloke, and then, finally, wander off.

But what makes this non-sensical system all the worse is that the staff absolutely refuse to tell you what the system was. So you queue up, and some bloke takes his time taking the bags off each person. But then he refuses to answer any questions. I asked, once I’d handed my bag over “Is that it? Can I go?” to which he grunted and shook his head. “Sorry, is that a no?” Grunt. I can’t go? Grunts, turns back. Is was only when I stood there and he eventually ambled back to take the next person’s bag and he motioned to me to get out the way. “So I can go?” Shakes head, waves hand, grunts. “So what exactly do you want me to do?” He waves his hand off to his side.

I then see a line of people waiting by another roped-off bit. So I go over there and ask a woman – are you waiting for your bag? Yes, I suppose so, she said. Do you know what the system is? No, I haven’t got a clue.

So we stand there and then I see my bag, but the bloke ignores me as I say “yes, that’s my bag” – expecting to take it and then try to figure out where to take it next. “My bag? The red one?” Grunts. So I thought sod this and started walking towards him to grab it, and suddenly he gets aggressive. “Hey! Back there! Back there!” pointing at the rope.

That’s my bag, I say, stepping back. Grunts. So I threaten to walk forward again and state very clearly and slowly with a touch of aggression ask: “Do… I… need… to… pick… up… my… bag?” He grunts and shakes his head.

I’m still not sure what this means, so I decided to play them at their own game and I go around to where I was originally and walk straight up to the first bloke and stand – literally stand – in his way so he can’t get past to the next person and their bag, and ask with firm purpose: “Can you explain the system to me? Now. Please?” (The “please” is the Britishness.)

He waves his hand. I refused to move. “I gave you my bag. I then stood over there. I saw my bag. I said ‘that is my bag’. Is it done?” And finally some words: “Yeah. You point out your bag and that’s it.”

Thankyou.

At which point every in the queue started asking me what the system was. Madness. I’m not entirely convinced I will be reunited with my bag at Heathrow either.

Mattresses

I’ve actually got about eight of these stories and if I honestly thought it would make the slightest difference, I would outline each one. But I have a more fun story about another piece of LA madness – litigation.

I was chatting away to someone yesterday and he was telling me about the hassle he had trying to get a mattress delivered to his house.

He had bought a mattress – and they had said they would deliver it – as happens with the vast majority of matresses. But of course they only deliver while he’s at work, so he arranges for the concierge at the apartment block where he’s staying to allow them into his flat to dump it off.

So far, so good. Except for the fact that when the bloke arrived with the mattress, he was very upset to find the owner wasn’t there. And ended up refusing to enter the flat without him present. Why? He was scared of being sued. So our guy gets a call explaining this and says “okay fine, just leave it in reception”. The bloke says fine, but then the concierge refuses to accept liability for the mattress in case something happens and *he* gets sued.

So he calls the mattress company – and they refuse to tell their man to deliever it in case *they* get sued. So it very nearly ends up with the mattress being returned to the company to save everyone from suing one another. The situation was only saved when our narrator promised to each party on the phone that, no matter what, he would not sue them, could they please just put the mattress in the flat?

You do not need to pay solicitors. But they *are* associated with this.