If you've clicked through the pages of this blog, you'll know I have a preoccupation with how people in airports drive me nuts. After 2 (or was it 3) posts about how much airport people make me want to tear out my hair, I thought that well had run dry.
Then I went on another trip.
Why airport people make me crazy, round 3 (or 4?):
#10) How does an adult woman pack a full-sized Pantene bottle of shampoo into her carry-on and then have the temerity to go postal on the hapless TSA worker who tells her to throw the bottle away? Anyone who has breathed in the past 15 years knows : little travel size. Anything larger can be a bomb. A bomb of fabulous lather and three natural conditioners, including jojoba.
#9) Let's take a quiz. Let's say the sign says: "1 carry-on and 1 personal item" Does this mean A) 2 rolling suitcases + a purse B) 1 baby carseat + diaper bag + stroller + rolling luggage bag (per person) or C) backpack (like one you would use for camping for a week) + guitar + 3 plastic grocery store bags full of gear. (If you answered all three, you win the prize.)
#8) Item #9 -- all of it -- attempting to be crammed into the overhead slots of a regional jet. And then being ticked off when it does not work.
#7) Cell phones. Every time I talk about cell phones. For the love of puppies, overweight balding man in a wrinkled suit, you are not that important. We don't need to hear about how you're going to "give it to HR" when you get back. If anything, they are going to give it to you, and you know it. Ok, ok, let me spot you this one. Let's say you >really< needed to talk about how the 'project goals aren't being met', and you have to tell this to some poor sclump on the end of the line at FIVE FREAKIN' A.M. as we're waiting to get on the first flight out of hell. Then why don't you do the rest of the half-asleep, silent crowd a favor and step into a less-populated space to blab. Or is it that your wee-wee is so small that you have to do something -- anything -- to try and look important? Because dude, you're not impressing me. I freakin' cut babies out of humans and I don't yap loudly on the phone in public, trying to highlight how awesome I think I am. Ever. It's annoying. No one is that important. No one.
#6) Here's the picture. It's a crowded airport. Weather has set in. Flights are coming in late. People are running. It's obvious people are in a hurry because of the "excuse me"'s and "oh my God"'s that are being uttered as people...run. Let's say you're oblivious, maybe even old, but that's not a necessity. And let's say you're in the middle of the corridor of people, your head up as you take in the sights of the big ol' airport as you are chit-chatting to your equally clueless spouse/partner, and you are freakin' WEAVING as you walk. Slowly. Here's a rule: if you're a doofus, just walk on the side of the mass of humanity. That's all.
#5) TSA agents who are yapping about their weekend of boozing it up as they're motioning passengers to come on through. This? This is our protection between alive and being blown to smithereens? Two overweight dudes yukkin' it up about their latest "score"?
#4) Gate agents who will not make eye contact. And God bless them, I understand that -- except for the poor guy in lost baggage -- gate agents might have the worst job that deals with the public. I get it. But really? No eye contact at all?
#3) Screaming babies. Ok, I don't mind that you're flying with a 3 month old, per se. What I mind is the fact that that child is in no way fully vaccinated and you are putting this kid at extreme risk by exposing him to countless dangerous germs, including those being exploded out of the old lady who has been coughing nonstop. With an inspiratory whoop each time.
#2) It's 2015. You've taken off shoes, belts, clothing, earrings, jewelry, watches for, oh, I don't know, FOURTEEN years straight. Why today, does this concept seem to elude you? Why did you just try to go through the metal detector with stilettos (like that's not a weapon?) and massive quantities of bling?
#1) Ok passengers, a little etiquette here. Let's say you are going to get on a cramped plane with 50-200 other people. Would it be too terribly much to ask that you could at least give yourself a little rinse-eroo within 48 hours of the trip? The combination of that man's B.O. and the turbulence almost had me tossing my cookies.
Author, daydreamer, and practitioner of trying very hard to duct tape folks together and help when I can.
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