Arriving at an airport to find that your departure gate has
been shut down due to a security lock-down is never good. All one can do is
stand around patiently, watch the display screens and hope that your flight
isn’t going to be cancelled. The crowd steadily grows and every few seconds a
sweaty, flustered and agitated businessman barges his way through the crowd,
ear pressed to his phone. He gets to the security tape, looks around bewildered
at this unusual turn of events and then tries (fruitlessly) to negotiate with
the armed soldiers barring his way.
Watching the gravitas of the situation gradually dawn on his
face, seeing him sheepishly hang up his phone and stand quietly and patiently
alongside the rest of us, brought a little comfort. I particularly liked the
way that they would all scowl angrily at the very next person to do exactly
what they did. Humans have short memories.
Just as I was trying to explain what was going on to one of
my fellow passengers (in my own special brand of particularly bad French) a
whistle blew, there was a loud bang and then a French lady made reassuring
noises about how the suspect package had been destroyed.
So smooth and calm was her voice that I couldn’t help but
wonder if it was a recorded message.
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