Thursday, March 31, 2011

Commuter Illiterate: Search engine.

The other day I was "randomly" searched again on the PATH Train.

This is how it works.  There at at least two police officers.  One of them stands among the crowds and picks someone at "random".  He makes sure the potential terrorist doesn't get lost in the shuffle.  I don't know what his system is, but he seemingly knows.  So I call him the Knows-Picker.

Then there's the guy who actually searches your bag.  He stands to the side and waits for the "random" potential terrorist.  He then examines your bag with his anti-terrorism device.  To the untrained eye, this device looks like a simple rolling cart with a flat surface.  But no.  You're being stupid, stupid.  For all we know, that is some high tech equipment there that we don't know about, and not just a table with wheels to make the search look more official.

I call this guy... The Searcher.  Dun-dun-dun!  But until the "random" potential terrorist is actually brought to him, you can call him... The Waiter!

So the other day after work, I was "randomly" selected again by the Knows-Picker.  He walked up towards me, and I stopped in my tracks.  (Get it?  Cos I was headed for the train).  Anyway, he didn't have to say anything.  I know how it works.

I gave out a loud sigh and walked reluctantly towards the high-tech anti-terrorism device which to the untrained eye looks merely like a rolling cart with a flat surface.  As The Waiter turned into The Searcher and searched my bag, he asked, "Is there a problem, sir?"

"This is not the first time I've been searched," I said, not really wanting to talk in the first place, or even acknowledge other human beings in the first place.

"Well, I got news for you," he replied readily.  "This won't be the last time."

"No shit."  "Yeah, I bet," I said.

"You think I like doing this?" he offered, unsolicited.  "You don't think I want to be someplace else?  I don't like doing this either."

Before I could even think of a response, which probably would have been about me not caring about what he would rather be doing or not doing, we were interrupted.  I hadn't mentioned this, but sometimes, there are more than two officers there.  Sometimes you have a couple of cops who hang around in the back, probably serving as back-ups if necessary.

If not necessary, they hang back and talk to each other, presumably about how effective "random" bag searches are and how potential terrorists would be too dumb to just use the opposite entrance across the street where they never wait and search.  Or about how safe travellers must feel with them hanging around in the back talking.  And how scientific it is to foil potential attacks by "random" sheer utter luck.  And/or how they can improve good will between officers and citizens through their courtesy, professionalism and respect.   (Oh wait, does that apply to the PAPD?  Well, then, what's the motto with you?)

Anyway, one of these guys in the back (I call them The Guys Who Like It in the Back) interrupted and said to me, "Let me tell you how it works."

I said, "I know how it works."

"If you don't agree to the search," he continued as The Searcher handed my bag back to me (which might indicate to any observant person, whether a police officer on duty or not, that the search has actually finished and therefore taken place and therefore agreed upon, albeit reluctantly), "You cannot take the train."

"Yeah, I know how it works," I repeated.  "I didn't say anything.  He asked me."  I wasn't even sure if I was making any kind of sense, but I wasn't expecting to be in the middle of a debate either.  I then proceeded through the turnstile and went about my business.

Ah, yet another wonderful exchange with the Port Authority Police.  Just another perk of being "randomly" searched on the PATH Train.  Not that I have problem with the cops themselves.  The way I see it, being "randomly" searched  is just like stepping on dog shit.  You don't blame the dog.  You just wipe your feet and move on.

And now, here is Monty Python: