Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
Self-Checkout aisles are like wheelchair ramps for introverts.
Any thoughts on how to make life hard for those guys while appearing not to?Our City Hall has recently started this nonsense. I asked them when was the last time someone tried to hijack City Hall to Cuba, but they didn't laugh.I went in with an empty holster and an empty mag carrier on my belt. They didn't mention them. They missed my iPod and made me take my pocket knife back to my car.What kind of self image must someone have (and end up with) to take a job doing this?Word verification: spory - of or having to do with the reproductive cycle of TSA personnel. "The airport security guy got excited and got my briefcase all spory!"
I was a little surprised when my two half-terabyte external drives came off the plane from NH to PA completely destroyed.Completely. The alloy-cased one looked like it had been jumped on, the plastic-cased one had had the cables plugged into it, then somehow wrenched to a 60 degree angle destroying the power and data connectors.Wankers.
"What kind of self image must someone have (and end up with) to take a job doing this?"In my town, they gave the job of security to the dumbest police officer on the force. She sounds like she didn't pass 4th grade. I could easily get a gun in by simply wearing boots (they assume it's steel toe boots). They don't have a handheld wand. Hell, I could simply walk in the unlocked back doors (lazy employees)...A lone officer at the door is simply the first person to die in a real active shooter situation, IMHO.
During the last gun grab scare, I got impatient to possess a Mini Thirty Stainless, so made a phone order to my trunk dealer, also a US Marshal. When he called to say it was in, I asked where to meet him, and he said, just drop by my office. Heh: It's in the US Courthouse for Northern ____(insert state here). So, I did. Magnetographic walkthrough, wand job, and shoes off on the way in. On the way out, two men with rifles breeze right past the security post. Jaws dropped. And you know what? It was legal. As I walked out the [ornate] front doors onto the federal mall, I thought I heard an Ennio Morricone orchestral theme swell. "Wha--where we goin'?""On a liquor raid." "Here?!" (WV 'larksmet': In Alabama? On Berkeley Square? At a Studebaker meet?")
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