Chapter 150: Leaving on a jet plane...again.

I hate airports, well, they aren’t so bad, and flying isn’t so bad, but it’s so hard to just fly. I have to unpack my carry-on and strip down before I can get through security. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just come to the airport naked and get dressed after I get to the gate. It would be uncomfortable if I was late to my flight and had to fly in the nude, but they still offer blankets don’t they? So I think that I’ve striped down far enough, I took my laptop out of my bag and out of it’s case and it’s gone through the “scanner” and then I’m standing there in line behind space cadet who is just staring out the window! Move it buddy, my stuff isn’t at my side so I might have a coronary if we don’t reunite soon. So the guy finally goes through, beeps and gets put in a glass box. That looked promising, I’m not nervous now. So the guy on the other side of the metal detector is giving me mixed signals. He’s not looking at me, but his palm is faced out at me like “stop” and then he looks and motions for me to come forward but midway he seems to say stop, so I’m going crazy and am super timid as though the detector is going to zap me if I don’t get this right. I get through and it’s beeped at me. The guy says, “Do you have a belt on?”

“Oh yeah.” So instead of pulling out the wand he makes me go back through, in order to do this I have to ditch the belt. So I grab an individual tub for one little belt, cut in front of people and put it on their belt to go through the inspector, then I get in the ever increasing line and watch as my stuff heads off to lost and found because it’s been sitting there so long. Flip Flopper does the same thing when my turn comes up for the metal detector and I close my eyes as I go through because I have some strange neurotic tendencies. I’m given the okay to proceed to my belongings where I can repack and get dressed. I grab the belt, stuff it in my bag, zip my laptop in its case, stuff that in my bag, grab my purse, carrying on bag and shoes and go to a bench to collect myself. As I am putting my shoes on I look across the room to see that the man who was put in the glass box has been taken to another glass room (and when I say ‘glass’ I mean Plexiglas, harder to break out of). He’s sitting down while they inspect him with the wand (I always thought you had to stand for that). I thank my lucky stars they didn’t put me on display and head out to my gate.

Now I sit here, as people fill in around me, some have a little laptop envy and wished they had either brought theirs or owned one. I have my stuff in the seat next to me because I hate the idea of strangers, blame the childhood on that one. Which just reminded me to plug into the laptop so that I can listen to what I want and seem less inviting.

Per bad experiences from before I have within my carry on two packs of crackers, some starbursts, and my remaining Reese’s pieces from the beginning of the month (my last travel engagement). The last time I flew I went an entire day without any food because the money leeches charge for lunch, are skimpy on the beverages, and have no guilt about passing you up for some crackers if you’re asleep. And I hate falling asleep on airplanes because I wake up dry, inside and out. My eyes hurt to move because I was too afraid to bring contact solution because I’m not 100% sure what 3oz. is, plus it’s not in a clear bottle and I don’t have the appropriate sized bag to place them in. My throat is dry because apparently while I was asleep they came around with the beverage cart, and I should be so lucky to snag a pack of crackers. So I took care of as much as I could, which couldn’t include liquids so pretty much I just brought my own crackers, starbursts will cause me to salivate, thus taking care of the dry throat, and the Reese’s pieces are just because I like peanut butter.

It wouldn’t be nearly as bad if I had fallen asleep before midnight last night and didn’t wake up at three. Instead I feel like I have to crack my neck and at any moment I could go into a REM cycle. Oh, and any takers on me sitting next to a good looking guy this flight, because I’m pretty sure I look like regurgitated food today.
I can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something, and at the same time, I’ve got to tell myself I can’t do anything about it, so just forget it.

Oh, young hot pilot! This flight just got a little better.