Text 12721, 278 rader
Skriven 2006-08-28 09:19:50 av Rich Gauszka (1:379/45)
  Kommentar till text 12718 av /m (1:379/45)
Ärende: Re: The iPod of Terror
==============================
From: "Rich Gauszka" <gauszka@hotmail.com>

Top Level Design Review?   :*)

"/m" <mike@barkto.com> wrote in message
news:akn5f2di67r3mr1tqvoj17m5d8acgl2nsl@4ax.com...
>
> TLDR.   ;)
>
>
>
> On Sun, 27 Aug 2006 22:57:05 -0400, "Rich Gauszka" <gauszka@hotmail.com>
> wrote:
>
>>Terrorize an airline by accidentally dropping your iPod in the toilet
>>
>>http://www.canada.com/ottawacitizen/news/story.html?id=6a11bd67-f717-4aa3-80a
9-840c07949730&k=28503
>>A suspicious package found in an aircraft washroom on a flight from
>>Chicago
>>on Tuesday afternoon brought out Ottawa police canine and bomb-disposal
>>units.
>>
>>A member of the crew found the package about 4 p.m.
>>
>>The plane landed safely and was isolated away from the terminal.
>>
>>Passengers were taken off the plane and questioned by police while experts
>>investigated the 'package.'
>>
>>The airport was not closed during the three-hour incident.
>>
>>Police issued a statement Tuesday evening saying the suspicious package
>>'has
>>been identified as an electronic devicde commonly known as an iPod.' "
>>
>>
>>
>>http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.html?topicId=11211166&sid=1
>>
>>It all started when I got out of my seat to go to the bathroom. I went to
>>the bathroom, washed my hands, and returned to my seat. A little while
>>later
>>the two stewardesses on the flight crossed each other in the aisle. They
>>had
>>a quick conversation that I was in earshot of.
>>
>>"I locked off the front lav. There's something in the toilet that's
>>preventing it from flushing. Run some water and see if you can clear it."
>>My
>>face immediately turned red. The seat cover! I thought. It must have been
>>too big to flush! I should have thrown it out!
>>
>>I was so embarrassed. I tried to act normal ... I took a sudden interest
>>in
>>the contents of the seat pocket in front of me, acted nonchalant and all.
>>I
>>watched as the stewardess got on her hands and knees in the lavatory and
>>did
>>unfathomable dirty work.
>>
>>Sometime later, I decided it would be best if I forgot the whole thing
>>happened, so I went to put on my headphones and drown myself in iPod
>>music.
>>But ... no iPod. I panicked, checked my other pockets. Where was it? Not
>>under the seat, not in the pockets, not ... anywhere. I looked up to the
>>stewardesses. One of them had run past me in a decent clip. She was
>>carrying
>>a green handbook. She brought it to the other stewardess. They flipped
>>through the handbook, read a page, then made a call. The other stewardess
>>had retrieved a blue metal box and was removing some equipment from it.
>>
>>I put two and two together. I knew what had happened.
>>
>>So I walked up to the stewardesses, both clamoring over the handbook, and
>>tapped one on the shoulder.
>>
>>"So, I had an iPod before I went to the bathroom, and now I don't. I think
>>I
>>know what's in the toilet."
>>
>>We had a quick conversation. I told them, "You don't have to call the TSA
>>or
>>anything, it's just my iPod." They said, "Oh, but we already did."
>>
>>So now I'm starting to realize that this is turning into a big problem.
>>They
>>offer their condolences, tell me that it's unfortunate, and I take a seat.
>>Okay. So far, not so bad. I return to my seat and spend the rest of the
>>flight trying to act normal.
>>
>>That is, right up until the pilot comes over the intercom.
>>
>>"Folks, this is the captain. I don't want to alarm you, but we've found a
>>suspicious device in the front lavatory. Now, we think it's probably
>>nothing, but in this day and age ... you can never be too careful. We'll
>>be
>>landing at Ottawa, where we will await further instructions."
>>
>>The cabin erupted with commotion. At that very moment, my face fell into
>>my
>>hands. What have I done?
>>
>>We landed at Ottawa, and we were taxiing to the gate. Without warning, the
>>airplane then lurched to a sudden halt.
>>
>>"Folks, this is the captain. We've been ordered to make an immediate stop.
>>Buses are coming to evacuate the aircraft." We were to leave all of our
>>belongings on the aircraft; we would be shuttled by bus to the terminal,
>>where we would receive our carryon items.
>>
>>My face fell deeper into my hands. Next came the waiting. Waiting and
>>listening to more worry and commotion. A lot of us wondered if we could
>>bring cell phones, wallets, passports, or customs forms with us. The
>>stewardesses didn't have any answers; they had never been through this
>>before.
>>
>>On the one hand, if I brought a cell phone, wallet, etc. etc., and they
>>confiscated it, I would have to hunt and peck for it separately from my
>>carryon luggage. But if I stuck all of that stuff in my carryon luggage, I
>>would only have to find one bag when we clamored for our stuff in the
>>future. I decided the smart thing to do was to stick everything in my
>>carryon. But, I kept my wallet, because I knew I was in big trouble at
>>this
>>point.
>>
>>It took them 45 minutes to round up not just a bus and air-stairs, but an
>>army of police and customs vehicles. One of the stewardesses took me aside
>>and whispered to me. "Get off the plane last, and talk to the constable."
>>
>>So I did. I exited the plane last, and spoke to the Ottawa police officer
>>waiting at the air-stairs. I told him that the device was my iPod, and he
>>took down my license number.
>>
>>I continued to the bus. After a brief wait, it did NOT take us to the
>>terminal. It took us to some industrial facility, where they housed
>>utility
>>vehicles. There, in the open garage, we were instructed to sit and wait.
>>And
>>wait we did ... another 30 minutes or so.
>>
>>This was possibly the worst part ... While we were waiting I got to
>>overhear
>>the passengers talking about me. Well, they didn't know it was me, but
>>they
>>knew someone had dropped an iPod in the toilet, and they made aaallll
>>sorts
>>of assumptions about this person.
>>
>>"Why didn't he have it on a clip? He could have clipped it to his damn
>>pants." Or, "Why didn't he tell the stewardesses? Why is he hiding it from
>>them and making us go through this?"
>>
>>I could have corrected them. I could have told them that it WAS on a clip
>>and I DID tell the stewardesses. In fact, it was a lot of self-restraint
>>to
>>just keep my mouth shut and not make things worse.
>>
>>By this time the sense of guilt had left me. This wasn't my fault. Anyone
>>could have dropped his stupid iPod in the toilet. It's really the
>>government
>>here. I mean, at this point the building contained six customs officials,
>>an
>>army of policemen, people from various security agencies, a bomb squad,
>>and
>>a couple of detectives. No one was doing anything. No one was taking
>>charge.
>>*I* didn't create this mess.
>>
>>The whole time, the officers were watching me. They had told me to keep in
>>sight of them at all times.
>>
>>Finally, five or six customs officers set up a table and made an
>>announcement. "We will be interviewing each of you one by one. Please form
>>a
>>line. Before we have our chat, make sure you have your ID, passport, and
>>customs information with you."
>>
>>One person asked, "What if that stuff is still on the plane?" The customs
>>official responded, "Then we will have a more formal chat."
>>
>>I got in line with the rest of the people, but shortly thereafter two
>>police
>>officers took me out of line. "Come with us."
>>
>>They took me to a discreet corner. They brought out a tape recorder. I was
>>told to put my hands up on the wall and spread my legs, and I was frisked
>>from head to toe. They removed my wallet, disassembled it completely, and
>>placed each of its contents in its own plastic evidence bag.
>>
>>"Now Tim, for the sake of the tape recorder, I want you to state your full
>>name and address." I did. "Now, each of us will state our name and
>>position
>>into the tape recorder." There were two detectives from the police
>>department, a detective from Customs, and two members of the bomb squad.
>>
>>Then started the questions. They were easy at first. They asked me where I
>>lived. What do I do for a living? Why am I unemployed? How come it's taken
>>me 4 months to find a job?
>>
>>They asked me why I was visiting Canada. I was to visit a friend I met on
>>World of Warcraft, Cara. They took down her name and what I could remember
>>of her address. They asked me how we met.
>>
>>"In an online game."
>>"What online game?"
>>"Umm ... World of Warcraft," I responded meekly.
>>"What kind of game is this?"
>>"It's a fantasy game ... it takes place online."
>>"Fantasy ... like it's got wizards and warlocks?"
>>"Well, it's got warlocks." (And they need to be nerfed.)
>>
>>They asked me to describe my relation to Cara. I told them that people
>>meet
>>up in the game and go on adventures together, and that Cara and I were in
>>a
>>guild together that I was the leader of. They confused the concept of a
>>guild with the game, however, and I had them believing that I was the Lord
>>and Leader of all of WoW until I was able to correct them, and explain to
>>them what a guild was.
>>
>>So, when they put the pieces together; namely, that I was visiting a
>>female
>>person that I had met over a computer game, their next line of questioning
>>went down an obvious path.
>>
>>"So you and Cara are friends?"
>>"Yes."
>>"How long have you known her?"
>>"About 5 months I think? Maybe less."
>>"Do you have a romantic relationship with Cara?"
>>"No."
>>"Do you want a romantic relationship with Cara?"
>>"No."
>>"OK, so ... if you and Cara were drunk together, and she turned to you and
>>said, 'Tim, let's go--'"
>>
>>I interrupted him. "Excuse me ... what's the point of these questions?"
>>The
>>detective hardened. "Let me make things clear. I ask questions. You answer
>>them. Do we have an understanding?"
>>
>>"Yes." I paused. "I just don't see how this is relevant."
>>
>>He spoke right in my face. "I've got 5 good men going into that airplane
>>right now. Five of my best bomb squad guys. If there is any reason that I
>>should be concerned for their life, then I need to know now. So just
>>answer
>>the questions, and do as I say."
>>
>>Now the questions became really pointed. What do you think about 9/11?
>>What
>>are your views on the Iran issue? Do you think government is too big, too
>>powerful? Would you ever "make a point?"
>>
>>He asked me if I knew how to make a bomb. "I have a degree in physics, and
>>I'm not an idiot." Of course I knew how to make a bomb -- what kind of
>>question is that?? The better question is, WOULD I make a bomb? The answer
>>is no.
>>
>>They tried to trap me with some of their questions. I noticed they would
>>try
>>to get me to contradict myself. Like, I had earlier mentioned that I had
>>never met Cara in real life, so they would later nonchalantly ask me when
>>I
>>had last seen Cara. Stuff like that.
>>
>>He told me there was a similar bomb scare in LA today. He asked me if I
>>was
>>connected with it. He asked me if I was connected to the "liquid" thing
>>from
>>Britain.
>>
>>
>>

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