We Are Not An Airport

Nowadays, getting into prison is just as hard as getting out. They have re-installed our metal detector for staff and are using it religiously, no matter how long it takes to get through.

Here's the routine:

Walk in and put your bag (if you carry one, I do) and your duty belt on the counter. Walk through the detector.

It beeps, of course.

Walk back out and put all of the stuff from your pockets in the little plastic tub and walk through again.

It beeps again, because you are wearing a belt with a metal buckle, a badge and a name tag. Not to mention your boots probably have steel shanks (not those kind, the good kind) in the soles. And, if you are like 90% of all americans, you have fillings in your teeth. And maybe even a metal plate and a few surgical pins.

It's set that high. Lovely.

So you raise your arms and wait til a grumpy person with a hand held detector runs it over you and verifies that you are wearing a badge and name tag and there's metal in your boots and your belt and your zipper and your head.

Only then can you retrieve all the stuff that was formerly in your pockets and put your duty belt on and get your lunchbox. After that you are free to go get your radio and keys and whatever you need to start your day.

So instead of waiting to get all the way down to the house to get aggravated, they get you started as soon as you walk in the door.

Aint that lovely?

And all because someone else somewhere else did something stupid.

Well, Attila the Hun once conquered all of the known world and slaughtered thousands of people. I don't see any freaking metal detectors in the mongolian plateaus trying to prevent that from happening again!

Really.

But we'll endure. That's what we do. Illegitemati non carborundum. Don't let the bastards grind you down. We do whatever it takes to get the job done.

Even if it's aggravating.

Snap! I meant to set this one up to post at 2:00 AM and I forgot and posted the damn thing. Pfui. I'm a nitwit.