Security...
I was sat in the cockpit of my Twin Otter filling out some paperwork or else trying to think up some brilliant scheme that would get me out of Nigeria when I felt the airplane shift a bit as someone came up the stairs to the cabin. Then I heard, "Peeeep, peeep, peeep..." What in the world?
When I looked around, there was one of our security Shell Mopols using his metal detector to verify that each seat frame was, indeed, made of, umm, metal! Well spotted! He gave me a sheepish grin when I looked at him and fecked off to waste oxygen in a different way after that.
They used to check the pax, get a peep, the guy would pull some keys out of a pocket, show it and, "Okay, these are not the droids we are looking for." Not to give anything away but might there be a way to smuggle one thing by showing something else when both are made of metal?
Anyway they never checked the pax on Sundays but that was okay because we had never had a hijacking on a Sunday except for once or twice but that was helicopters and I was flying fixed-wing. See?
Post 9/11 I told my cabin crew that I would be keeping the cockpit door locked on the Dornier, when I took the key with me and slid the door closed. Halfway to Abuja we got the usual cup of tea and some biccies... Two minutes later I had the sudden thought, "Hey! How did he do that?"
On the ground again I got a very self-satisfied smirk from my steward as he showed me the extra key he carefully kept hidden away in the first baggage locker on the right, the one the pax weren't supposed to access.
You know, I could lock the door if I wanted to but it was his privilege to unlock it if he wanted to!