Ode to a Wary Road Warrior

I've said it before...I'm a road warrior.  I spend a lot of time in the airport, on planes and in hotels.  I do absolutely everything I can to make my travel enjoyable, and more importantly, efficient.  That's why I was in shock last week to breeze through the metal detector in Montreal just to hear the damn thing scream out its opposition to my speedy passage.

George knows the airport game pretty well.

I think for regular travelers it's constant challenge to not slow down the process by being the one that makes the machine beep...you can feel the other road warriors behind you in line... “Amateur,” they think.  I know they think it, because I think it.  You get behind someone who looks like they know what they’re doing, because that line will move faster, then shazam, the alarm goes off when they forget to take off their shoes or their belt, and they’ve got to go through again.   Amateur.

So imagine my surprise last week in Montreal when I went through the detector, strutting proudly, as I do, because I know there is not a shred of metal anywhere on my person.  Not an errant penny, not a stick of gum, nothing.   When to my great surprise, and horror, the thing went off and the CATSA people sprung into action.

I must of looked surprised when I stopped dead in my tracks during the afternoon security rush hour.  “Don’t worry…” she said, “…you’re clean.  Very clean, in fact.  You’ve been selected for a random search.”  Random Search.  That’s something you rarely heard ten years ago, but it’s part of the modern traveler’s lexicon today.  That means that you get a pat-down for no real good reason.

You're the lucky winner of a random search.  Just let me glove up.

Up until a few months ago, you had no choice when it came to a random search.  In Montreal it involved a pat down by whoever the lucky CATSA employee was who was assigned to your line.  It involved arms, legs, and if you were lucky, a foot massage, as they had you sit down, and they ran their hands over your feet.  My life changed a few months ago when they installed those full-body scanners that everyone was freaking out about.

Yep, give me that pat-down.  It's been a slow week.

There’s some controversy around exactly what those lucky CATSA employees get to see, and for how long they store the images.  Here’s how I feel about it.  If you’ve read this blog, you know I’m not a fan of being touched by strangers, so go ahead and scan me baby!  You stand in a big round phone booth, and this x-ray machine swoops around you taking a full body shot and transmitting it to somebody in a room that you can’t see.  They then send a thumbs-up or thumbs-down signal back to the security employee and they either let you go, or feel you up to get a better sense of what you’re trying to stash on your body.

One to beam up, Mr. Scott

I don’t know if people want to get assigned to the X-Ray room, or if it’s where you get assigned if you’re being punished.  I don’t even like to look at myself in the mirror when I get out of the shower in the morning, so I can’t imagine sitting in a room looking at images of people like me every single day.  I know the thought freaks people out, but if a guy, or girl, that I can’t see is sitting in a room looking at X-Ray pictures of my junk, and, it gets me through security faster, bring it on. 

Ewww.  Imagine this all day long.

I’m not sure how you would describe that position in a job posting…Requires long hours of sitting alone in a dark room with no windows looking at pictures of naked people on the computer.  Come to think of it, there are probably millions of people who are qualified to do that job.  They probably don’t have too much problem hiring for that one.

Wanted:  X-Ray room monitors

I’ve been traveling for business in Canada for a long time.  I’ve been to 18 different airports in Canada, and most of them many more than one time.  I have a memory for the important things, like where the washrooms are.  Once I crossed that magic chronological threshold of 40, knowing where to go, to go, got much more important.  I have no idea why your bladder seems to shrink when you hit that magical milestone.

I had it all sorted out for a long time.  I knew my path through the airport, that included the requisite bio-stop, both when departing and arriving.  It was all good.  That is, until, they started building new airports.  It started with Ottawa.  It’s a lovely airport, but when you knew where the washroom was, in relation to your gate, then they go and move it on you, things get a little dicey.  The same is true of Edmonton, Calgary, Vancouver, and most recently, Winnipeg.  Winnipeg is a beautiful new terminal, very bright, but the washrooms are in a really different place then they used to be.

There's even a cool map for the new Winnipeg terminal.  But where's the john?

Airport designers are becoming more and more aware of the needs of the road warrior.  The most obvious change is that there is now much easier access to power outlets.  It used to be that you needed to wedge yourself between a chair and the wall, and sit on the floor to plug into an outlet usually reserved for a vacuum cleaner.  Yesterday I noticed a whole new seating arrangement in terminal 3 in Toronto that allows a number of people to sit in a circle around a power pole.

Looks like something grown-ups should be doing

Convenient?  Yes.  Comfortable?  I doubt it.  The configuration of the chairs has people who don’t know each other almost sitting on top of each other while they charge up their devices.  The airlines have cottoned on to this concept as well, and have made power available at your seat for your long haul flight and your short haul battery.  As a nod to Air Canada, they’ve even got a USB port at your seat to power up your iPods and your Blackberry.  Very thoughtful.

Notice the USB and the power outlet.  Thank you, Air Canada.

Speaking of plugging in your devices, I see an incredible number of iPads.  I’m sure there are a hundred million of them in circulation.  As I sit on the plane, and if I’m lucky enough to get upgraged to Business Class with the executive types, I notice that almost every suit on the plane pulls out their iPad.  I don’t have one, so I feel a little left out.  So I look around, and do you know what’s going on on those executive iPads?  Updating spreadsheets?  Executive memos?  Nope.  It’s Angry Birds.  That’s what’s going on.  Virtually every cuff-linked exec I’ve seen with their iPad on a plane is, at some point during the flight, playing Angry Birds.  I don’t begrudge them their downtime, I just think it’s kind of a hoot.  And, I’m jealous.

I want an iPad so I can play Angry Birds too

It’s not that hard to separate the real Road Warriors from the Road Warrior Wannabes.  The Road Warriors have their liquids and their gels already packed in an approved ziplock baggie.  (Note:  Don’t try to slide through the Halifax airport with your stuff in a freezer bag big enough for your Easter ham, they’ll make you repack it.)  They’ve got their laptops and other devices stored in their briefcases in a way that allows them to access it with one unzip.  (Don’t shove them in your suitcase between your gitch and your socks…it’s embarrassing when you pull your laptop out and your leopard print thong comes with it.)  They’ve got their ID and their boarding pass ready for the gate agent.  (Your Costco membership, even though it has your picture on it, isn’t good enough for most Air Canada gate agents.)   

If you find your leopard skin thong on the floor of the airport, you need to pack better.

I’m not sure if being a Road Warrior is something to be proud of.  But I am proud.  I’m proud that I can leave the office in Montreal at 4:30 and if traffic cooperates, be at my gate at 5:00, because I’ve navigated the system correctly.  A lot of people (my lovely bride included) don’t think that work travel is actually work.  But it is.  It takes training, planning, perseverance and energy to survive it.  A lot like going to the office everyday.