Robot

“The bag goes in the bin. The bag goes in the bin. The bag goes in the bin. The bag goes in the bin. The bag goes in the bin.”

The O’Hare TSA agent repeats it like a mantra. His eyes are weary. Obviously he’s said this so many times before and nobody listens and he’s had to repeat it rote as the only way to get through his day at the security checkpoint.

I stare dumbly at him. Bag goes in the what? I start placing the bag on the conveyor belt but they stop me. Suddenly I see that the bins are much larger than at PHL and my roller board will actually fit into it. I feel like an idiot for not knowing but it’s been awhile since I’ve been to Chicago so I didn’t realize they have a different system at ORD.

Very different. At home, I would take off my shoes, take my laptop out of the bag and take out my toiletries. Here, I can leave them all in their bags. Everything goes through the X-ray machine, quick and efficient. I am through the line at top speed and making my way to the gate.

The man keeps telling people to put the bag in the bin. On the other side of the room, another agent tells everyone to keep their shoes on and their laptops in their bags. Her voice is loud and monotone.

When will their shifts end? When can they stop repeating themselves? When will the robot tourists actually listen to what they’re saying? Maybe their answer is to become a robot themselves.