There goes our iPad. Swallowed by the security conveyor belt, immediately under the prominent sign that says “The tray stays until it is emptied.” After many uses, I came to
trust that sign.

I didn’t at first. I’d grab and hold the tray before it got to the dangerous end-of-the-line, and fight the force of it’s mechanized trajectory. Because I knew: at the end of the belt, the tray drops swiftly to a lower level and is carried back to the security officers and then on to line’s starting point, where passengers take an empty tray.

At some point I noticed all the stuff mounted above the end of the conveyor belt. There’s a video camera, a mirror, and some sort of sensors. I tested the tray-trap—warily, I left a jacket inside. The tray waited at the end of the line until I removed the jacket. Huh.

I became complacent. Next time, I didn’t pick up my jacket from the blue-bottomed tray until I had my computer re-stashed. I let my belt lie while I grabbed my mini-toothpaste.

And when Bob’s iPad sailed through with it’s light gray cover, I kept an eye on it but didn’t fetch it.

Bob takes a long time to get through security. He travels with his MacBook Pro, MacBook Air, iPad, video camera, and six or seven hard drives. (Gotta be productive on the road…) We have a strategy: I whiz through and pack up my stuff in 45 seconds or so, then keep an eye on his stuff while he’s spreading out equipment in multiple trays and taking off his belt.

Luckily, I saw the machinery swallow his iPad. If I hadn’t have noticed, it could have been forgotten in the confusion (and rush).

“Stop, thief!” Or no. I said something else. “Our iPad’s been eaten!”

“Would have made a nice little present for the security officers,” Bob said.

We could easily have walked away from it. I wonder how many people do? This security check point is at Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport. London Heathrow has the same setup. I’ve seen it in other airports, too, but I can’t remember where. Copenhagen? Munich?