Travel and spite

3.46PM, 1/3/9

In the past few weeks, I have spent many quality hours in transit. It’s a shame that it is nearly impossible to read theory on a plane. But here are some of my more ‘charming’ observations:

1. Why do I keep getting selected for the extra screening? What about me screams ‘terrorist’? Is it my pleasant demeanor, my mismatched luggage or my ability to be confused for a minor? For the kicker – if I get held up in my screening and am running late, they won’t hold the plane for me, even if I pass, and even though it was the airline’s idea in the first place. (I smell overselling seats conspiracy, but then again, I also smell boy funk right now).

• Spite factor 1: As part of the “VIP treatment,” the guy had to swab inside every single pocket of my carry-on items. Imagine my infinite glee as he discovered that Green Bag has 9 pockets, with magnets and broken zippers.
• Spite factor 2: Next time, I will resist my OCD tendency to pack carefully using lots of Ziploc and instead make my carry-on just explode with dirty undies and loose tampons (because it’s always a guy). Swab that!
• Remorse?: In his defense, the guy was as efficient and pleasant as possible.
  

2. I think the airlines are a stain upon humanity. There is something so fundamentally unethical about cramming that many people into a confined space for exorbitant rates and then nickel-and-diming them out of their minds. I could almost accept the checked bag fee (not happily, but it makes some rational sense). The one that totally burns my ass is the food charges. You can’t bring beverages past security, meaning that you are forced to buy them at the airport, or for the truly unlucky, the airplane. And US Airways got you there. If you are thirsty on a plane, you are shit out of luck. Not even the water is free. And you had better have exact change - $2 to be exact. The fact that a dinky sandwich and mini-bag of chips is $10 on American blows my mind. Henceforth, I strive to be a camel.

• Spite factor: You can carry an empty bottle through security and fill it inside the airport. I’ve gotten smirks from Homeland Security, but it is still ok. I also tend to be the one who packs snacks, but that is because I am secretly about 5.

3. I have decided to design the sensory deprivation kit. It’s a set of noise-canceling headphones to block out engine noise, tantrum babies and the “expert traveler” who thinks his platinum rating means he can harass other travelers or get chummy with the flight attendants. These headphones will also be fitted with blinders so you can block out the person next to you who insists on picking their nose to amuse themselves. I need to figure out a way to block smell after someone unpeeled a banana in coach, and I nearly yakked.

4. Air travel and illness do not mix. My return trip from Argentina was like the 2nd ring of hell because I was alternately congested then all dry. I thought my ears would never pop. Also, the whole recirculated air just screams contagion. Which is why products like Airborne are so popular. But for the Airborne Guy flying from SBA-Vegas, please pack tissues just in case, because the wiping of snot and then touching things is not sanitary for the rest of us. (He is the poster child for Purell, even though I hate the stuff). Also, the alcohol in those three Bloody Mary’s you actually lowered your immunity and entirely defeated the purpose of tomato juice.

• Spite factor: Pull a Stark Raving Mad and gift the Purell to the freakshow instead of ever touching it again.

Well, once I make it back to SBA, I will be grounded for a while. Till March at least, when I get to fly to Chicago!