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Friday, April 16, 2010

Eastward, Ho! No, Wait…

I left home for the Erma Bombeck Writers Conference in Dayton, Ohio; and from the outset, the experience is designed to determine one’s readiness to fly.

How are your navigational skills? Have you any talents in the areas of interpretive sign analysis?

Do signs that advise you to both go up and go down worry you?

Do men in uniforms, no matter how wide their smiles, asking you to remove your belt and shoes cause you concern? Are you accustomed to partially disrobing in public? If the answer is “yes”, is aforesaid disrobing done while sober?

If the answer is “no”, how much would beer would it take before you would voluntarily disrobe and where can I get those pictures?

You aren’t carrying more than three ounces in liquids, creams, or salves, are you? What about that new Clinique powder – you know, the one you tell yourself was totally worth the cost, the one that brings down the levels of your freckles just so? It’s 4.5 ounces, one and a half ounces more than the three-ounce limit on the rest of your cosmetics. You don’t think it will qualify in someone’s mind as something that might possibly be made to explode, do you?

Speaking of which, I have 11 cigarettes saved for just such an occasion and four matches. What is the carry-on status of a lighter?

After determining that my shoes were harmless, my belt not likely to be used for felonious purposes, I sat at Gate C16, a lovely bit of property in the Delta terminal where the three-year-old of an angry man on a cell phone ran a tiny truck up the right side of my body more than once.

It was nothing personal – I’m sure I look like a roadway to a lot of three-year-olds – and honestly it’s the closest I’ve come to a massage in a long time.

But I cannot be stopped by inconvenience! Confusing signage? Shoes and belts? Weeding out the moisturizers and mouthwashes that may lead to in-flight incidents? Acting as the dead-end on a tiny truck thoroughfare?

It’s just part of what I do.

I’m a patriot, people.

16 comments:

sexnfries said...

Great post.
I had a tiny...I mean TINY but illegal lip gloss that they threw out. Now it was my fault that it was tossed. I just didn't want to go back to the very beginning and get one of those baggies. Why don't they have them there for such people as myself that thought I would get away 'with it'. So I told the 'nice' lady just to throw it away, and the 'nice' lady did just that. My favourite frickin lip gloss gone.

Sweet Cheeks said...

Do you think you looked more of an express way or a country road to that little three year old?

=]

Marla said...

The Erma Bombeck Writers Conference? I so want to go!! Can't wait to hear all about it. You will tell all about it, correct?

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

Is that that same belt we used in Monaco that one time? Get your mind out of the gutter people. We used it to escape from the hotel and it's outrageous check out policies.

Willoughby said...

Airport security....is there anyplace closer to hell on earth? I've been working on a blog about traveling, you just reminded me of a story or two that I should add!

Pat said...

You never can tell...Harmless-looking women may be the newest secret weapon of Al Quaeda.

You were kind to the 3-year-old by letting him use your leg as a road instead of speaking sternly to him about driving his car elsewhere.

Simply Suthern said...

I've had the occasional partial strip search. Thankfully no body cavity search yet. I don't know where they keep the pictures. The TSA folks aint the happiest bunch ever assembled.

Krëg said...

Is it wrong to sneer at the TSA agents and tell them "I hid something up my butt, but I can't remember what"? Then giggle excitedly while they lead me away?

I miss the Friday iPod prognostications. Here's one by Mat Kearney until you can rectify this oversight.

Everyday Goddess said...

Come on over to collect your Goddess Award from me.
Who loves ya?

Jeanne said...

Even going through an airport with you is entertaining.

steelxmagnolia said...

Airport security is an oxymoron, indeed. Did they check to see if you were sporting a hand made bomb in your underpants. Swear it won't be long before we have to show up in a hospital gown, back flappin' in the breeze. Cheers ... and enjoy the conference.

Eva Gallant said...

What a great post. I love that you were the highway for that 3-year-old's truck!

creole laydee marmalade said...

men in uniform asking me to disrobe sounds so much better than it actually is XD

Ugich Konitari said...

I once flew Singapore-SFO, and some person with microscopic vision detected a nail clipper in my purse, and objected to That. They attached a tag (bigger in size than the object) , made me sign on two forms, and said I could collect it on the luggage merry go round at San Francisco, after we landed.

I wasnt going to subject myself to grevious injuries diving between suitcases and bulging backpacks rumbling down the conveyorbelt, and so I was pleased to donate it to whichever nation claimed ownership, Singapore or US.

Under the Influence said...

Dang, I live about an hour from UD - I could have swung by to say hello!

The Jules said...

Nice the kid thought you were a pleasant, approachable road.

If you want to prevent that sort of thing though, you have to look more like a crazed cyclepath.