Going through security at the Oakland Airport. I'm in line for the scanner and a dad and his two small children are ready to go through the x-ray. The little girl is carrying her jacket. I swear to god this is all true.
TSA Agent, "She needs to be wearing her jacket."
Dad, <to daughter> "Oh, honey, go put it on the conveyor belt."
TSA Agent, "No, she just needs to be wearing it."
Dad, <to daughter> "Throw it over your shoulder."
TSA Agent "She needs to be wearing it."
Dad, "What?"
TSA Agent, "She needs to be wearing it."
Dad, "The jacket?"
I was watching this exchange and I started laughing, out loud, causing the TSA Agent working the scanner to start throwing me nervous looks and finger his walkie-talkie. Is she having a breakdown? Should I get the taser?
Then the line ground to a complete halt when the next lady's hugely overweight "service" dog plopped down on it's back-end and refused to go through the x-ray machine. She picked up her cane to tug on the leash. He wasn't having any of it. She's starting to sweat. Which begs that question, how much help can you provide to your Service dog and still claim that he is there to help you? I was crying.
I gotta get a job at the airport
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