Heavy-handed security at the Forum Theatre - all over water.

During the week I went to see Dan Sultan play at the Forum Theatre in Melbourne. While the venue is pretty, it's really like a giant pub gig. I don't mind pub gigs, but I prefer them on a smaller scale. It turned out to be quite a bizarre night.

My friend and I had both been out and about during the day. She was coming straight from work; I had dropped into home to drop some stuff off and then head straight out again. After dinner nearby, we headed to the Forum. After showing our tickets we were stopped for a bag search on the way in. One of the security guys asked me if I was carrying any liquid (I wasn't) and cast a very cursory glance in my handbag. I walked through and waited for my friend. I looked up and saw her in animated discussion with a female security guard.

I heard my friend tell the woman, "I'm not tipping my water out!"

My friend left the area and we walked into the venue.

My friend had told the guard that she had some water and she was then told that she was required to tip it out. The reason given for needing to waste the water was "we sell water inside".

We hadn't been inside long when a male security person came and asked my friend to leave. Of course I went with her. I thought it was ridiculous that water should be tipped out for the purely commercial reason of securing sales of water for the venue.

This time, there was a different reason given: we might be carrying alcohol. We weren't and offered security the opportunity to smell the liquid. "We don't do that," came the response. Two other security guards stood around us. This was getting ridiculous!

My friend eventually pulled the water bottle out of her bag, only to discover that it was empty.

I've had a look at the "rules" for the venue.  This is an over 18's venue and has this information on their web:

PROHIBITED
Alcohol, cans, bottles, recording equipment, lazers, studded belts or weapons can not be brought onto the premises.

It says nothing about water. Stupidly, my friend's empty water bottle was allowed in which is technically prohibited. I imagine they are specifically concerned about glass bottles which could end up being used as a weapon or missile. Just about everyone takes their phone into these venues and are visible in their use of them as recording equipment.

The whole approach is offensive: three men standing over a small woman because she was carrying water; unclear reasons being given and the compulsion to waste a precious resource.

The female security guard didn't even look in my friend's bag. She only knew about the water because my friend was honest.

This approach was in direct contrast to the approach taken at Rod Laver Arena when we attended the Keith Urban concert recently. Keith actually spoke to the crowd about behaviour and got agreement that security wasn't going to be an issue. It wasn't.

Even at the Melbourne Cricket Ground they take the lid of the plastic bottle, but let you have the water.

I often think there's a type of person working in security. They seem to derive disproportional pleasure from their petty authority and the fact that they can direct other people. I suspect they are powerless in other facets of their lives. (I know that this is a generalisation, but it's also been my experience.)

I was ready to stand in solidarity with my friend as far as necessary (but secretly hoping we would still get to see the show).

I'm very interested to hear the venue's response. I'll keep you posted.

Security breach puts travellers in airport lock down

Brisbane airport - 24 July 2013
© divacultura 2013

This is what confronted me when I arrived at Brisbane airport last night to catch a flight home to Melbourne.  As I walked across to the terminal from the train station, I saw hundreds of people in the terminal and immediately knew something was wrong.  The only time I've seen an airport as busy as this was at about 5:30am over in Perth.

This was different.  For a start everyone was facing in the one direction.  I soon discovered they were looking at the departures board.  The departures board had a list of flights with no departure information.  Definitely unusual.

I approached two women and asked what was going on.  They told me there had been some kind of security breach.  I asked a couple of others and found out that someone had walked back inside the secure zone after they had left.  This meant that everyone who was inside the secure zone had to be evacuated to the non-secure side and go through security again.

I checked my bag in and found a spot on the floor and took a seat.  I was booked on a 7:10pm flight so I wasn't late, but I needed food.  After a day feeling unwell, I hadn't eaten anything and was just starting to feel like something plain - like toast, crackers or a bowl of rice.  The closest thing I could find was a bag of chips in a vending machine, but the vending machine only took coins or a $5 or $10 note.  I had a $50 note in my wallet.  Down the other end of the terminal I found a machine that took credit cards.  I swiped it.  It didn't look like it worked so I swiped it again.  I ended up buying 2 packets of chips.

Settling back on my spot on the floor, I listened to the announcements.  A woman's voice explained that they were now going to call particular flights.  She pleaded with us to wait if we were not on the flights called.  She reassured us that everyone would be called through and no one would be left behind.  A flight to Tamworth was called and a huge crowd surged forward.  It seemed like an awful lot of people travelling to Tamworth!  Soon another announcement from the same woman asked again for ONLY the people on flights that had been called to come through security.  She sounded frustrated.  I looked up and there she was standing beside me.  She looked stressed.

When she finished speaking I said thank you to her and told her what a great job she was doing.  She rolled her eyes and said how awful the afternoon had been.  I repeated that she was doing a great job.  She looked grateful and seemed amazed that anyone would notice and take the time to compliment her.

Another woman then walked through the crowd and started giving contradictory information calling out flight numbers that weren't up on the screen and hadn't been called out by the amplified announcement.  A passenger walked up and said something to this woman.  She didn't look happy.  The staff member gave some directions; the other woman shook her head and sighed.  As she walked away she shook her head and was muttering under her breath.

These scenes were repeated in little clusters across the terminal.

My flight was called and I walked through to security.  The staff there were working very fast.  I said hello and asked them how they were going.  They looked pleased to be acknowledged as human beings as most people going through looked grumpy.

As I made my way to the gate, a man walked beside me muttering about his flight being closed.

"My flight's &%^$ing closed!"

"It won't be closed.  You'll be okay."

"It says it's closed!  I won't be happy."

"You'll be okay," I called to his back as he rumbled down the concourse.

It's interesting to watch people get worked up about something that they have no control over.  Why yell at people who are doing their best to manage in the circumstances?  And why spend time getting worked up about a flight that might be closed instead of spending the time getting to the gate?  Strange.

In the end, my flight was only 10 minutes late.  I was very happy to sit on a seat - airport floors are very hard and cold!

What's your plan  when things don't go to plan?

One of those flights to the wild west

As I walk around the city streets of Perth, I notice several men with crazed eyes.  They look at me and probably notice the woman with crazed eyes and wild hair.  It's eight hours since I walked out my front door in Melbourne and I haven't even left the country.

There was one thing after another.

Initially everything was running like clockwork.  The train arrived one minute after I did.  Perfect.  After a stop at the ATM, the airport bus was waiting and I walked straight on.  The traffic flowed smoothly out to Tullamarine.  I went straight to a kiosk and checked my bag in.  So far, so good.  Time to get some lunch and walk around before being sealed in the plane for four hours.

(This proved to be a good move.  At the end of the story it was more like six hours in the plane.)

Looking at people in airports is one of my favourite things.  People have a lot of stuff.  People are running late.  People need to go back and forth through the security point three or four times before they believe they really do need to take the change and keys out of their pockets, confess to the carriage of aerosol shaving foam or deodorant, or reveal what they are hiding in the folds of their nifty mini-umbrella.  As a frequent traveller, I've got the process down to a fine art.  I know which jewellery and which shoes set off the sensors -  I don't wear them.  My umbrella is packed in my checked baggage.  If it would help, I'd have the fillings in my teeth popped out before I went through.  (That's never been an issue - so far - although there was an incident involving a particularly sturdy under wire bra sometime last decade.  Canberra airport, I think.)

The other thing I love about airports is the bookshops.  And there's time to browse!  I don't buy anything (my e-reader is well stocked) but I never tire of browsing.  There is a very enticing bookstore in the Qantas domestic terminal in Melbourne, if you're wondering.  Turn left after clearing security.

Anyway, boarding commenced on time.  People wrestled their stuff into their tiny space allocation.  The people already seated beside a spare seat hold their breath waiting to discover if they will remain in possession of the extra space.  You can feel their will to live seep out through their toes as you smile and say the fatal words:  "I'm in there."

The flow of passengers down the aisle thinned and we were all strapped in.  It was right on 3pm when when we should have been pushing back from the terminal.  Instead, the Captain tells us that a passenger has failed to board and has checked bags.  This means that we're waiting for either the passenger to turn up, or for the bags to be found and removed from the cargo hold.  Thirty minutes later there's another announcement telling us the passenger has been found and will be with us in five to ten minutes.   A low rumble goes through the cabin.  "I wouldn't like to be that person," I thought, as people craned their necks to catch of glimpse of the offender.

The passenger seemed oblivious to the glares of her fellow passengers as she walked down the aisle.  She was resplendent in a white gypsy skirt, royal purple blazer and chunky knit beanie and scarf in cream.  She was seated in 45A, just across the aisle from me.

The flight passed smoothly and we landed in Perth where we spent another fifty minutes sitting on the tarmac.  There had been a security breach of an unspecified nature in the airport.  As a result, we were stuck where we were and didn't have a time frame for release.  "Better out than in," I thought, under the circumstances.

People are strange.  We stand up, even though we can go no where. We become very tense, even when there is nothing to be done.  One man cracked my elbow with his knee as he climbed over bags in the aisle to find a long lost friend who was at the back of the plane.  When it was announced that we were free, he started to push his way back to the front of the plane with the compelling statement, "I need to get back to my seat."  Really?  Why?  We're leaving now!  You'll get there soon enough.

Thank goodness for the iphone.  I was able to tweet about my predicament and was pleased to hear back from a friend who acknowledged my plight.  At least someone knew where I was.

Suddenly the man beside me shook his phone and said dramatically: "They've shut down communications!"

I looked at him.  I looked at my phone.  Mine was fine.  Oh no, I was next to a panicker!  I hoped we'd be out before we needed to decide who to sacrifice.

Luggage arrived and then I joined the long taxi queue and drove off just in time to hit peak hour.  It took an hour to get to my CBD hotel.  It wasn't all wasted though.  I saw a man driving a red car change his pants while he was behind the wheel.  The traffic was moving so slowly there were several reasons why he may have needed to change his pants right there and then. I decided not to think about it.

I have a walk in wardrobe in my hotel room and the lighting in the bathroom reveals a woman who is in her late twenties.  Good lighting is just what I need after a day like today.