Single-file line, eyes forward

Ah, another business trip and another reminder of one of life's true, pure joys -- air travel.

For those readers who don't know me that well: that was sarcasm, bitter sarcasm to be more specific.

Even when a flight goes smoothly and arrives on time, the experience of flying on a commercial airline is by far the worst thing a corporation has ever given me in exchange for a couple hundred American dollars.

The air system and reading lights never quite work. The cramped seating makes those old yellow school buses seem like luxury coaches. And your luggage (if you're dumb enough to check it in) could end up pretty much anywhere. Not to mention that no matter how short the flight itself, flying anywhere generally manages to take up my entire day.

For the most part, I get the sense that the airport workers know how much the experience blows, and so they habitually greet you with scowls and grimaces, as a means of conditioning you psychologically for all the unpleasantries that lie ahead.

However, while checking in for my recent flight to Dallas I encountered a TSA worker of a different variety -- a borderline jolly black gentleman who instructed us cooly through the security checkpoint.

It was here, listening to this gentleman's instructions, that I was taken back to elementary school. That is not to say I specifically had to remove my shoes and carry all my liquid supplies in a clear quart-sized baggie with a zipper top when I went to school, but I do recall often being bombarded with a laundry list of instructions.

When we sat at our desks, it was feet on the floor, no talking, no sleeping, no passing notes. When the teacher led us to the cafeteria or anywhere else en masse, it was single file line, no touching, no loud talking, look straight ahead, no tripping, no pushing (these overlapped with no touching, I think).

So it occurred to me at the airport that the security checkpoint rules might very well be a massive government experiment to see how well Americans can follow basic instructions. I think we're failing, from what I can tell. I'm the only person I've ever seen actually take out their quart-size bag of toiletries for independent X-ray. People also have a hard time understanding that they should remove their luggage from the conveyor after they pass the metal detector, rather than standing there for five minutes repacking their laptops and putting on their shoes.

But at least one TSA worker has decided to take the (friendly) elementary school teacher approach. This gentleman I saw yesterday employed sing-songy instructions and rhymes in his best radio announcer voice to convey messages such as: "Did you know there are tables in the rear for your repacking and redressing convenience? Please take your gear and head to the rear." And repeat, of course, "Take your gear and head to the rear."

There was also this line, which might have been demeaning had it not been delivered in such a charming tone: "Please have your boarding pass out in your hand. Look at your hand. Do you see a boarding pass there?"

His personality was a nice break from the otherwise sterile, almost hostile airport experience. Still, I can imagine his wife is probably ready to rip out his smart-ass tongue.