Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Holiday travel tips: You can't take it all with you
Yesterday, I was pondering about a nice frothy little post with some soft random thoughts and frilly traveling advice. It’s the holiday season and a lot of inexperienced fliers are out and we should all just try to get along. I was feeling uncharacteristically Zen; pretty O.K. with my fellow man & womankind.
But then I got caught.
Caught red handed with extra gels and liquids. Done in by my greed to take my new Burt’s Bee’s Orange face wash that I LOVE and a few other extra niceties that didn’t fit in the regulation bag, like hairspray and my own shampoo and conditioner.
I know the rules. I obey the quart size bag decree to the tee. I take off my shoes and coat, place everything in those bins, and have my boarding pass ready with a pleasant attitude. I travel quite a bit.
Since I’ve have been there, done that…I saw it…. more like felt it. I was getting flagged. I’ve been stopped for electronics, I’ve been stopped randomly. But I haven’t been stopped over gels before. I knew they saw something. You know why? The bag with the extra contraband was in the outside pocket. I cursed my stupidity.
But truthfully I had never tried to sneak in a whole regular size Burt’s Bee’s before.
Suddenly, my bag is grabbed off the line and this strange lady opens it up and is touching my stuff…which just makes me crazy. In all the hullabaloo my toothbrush comes loose from its case, skids out and hits the floor.
I begin to lose it. I grab a few bottles out of my bag and throw it in bin and say, “I don’t need this stuff lady, I need to go”
Bad move. I’m not allowed to touch, or use a tone. I’m supposed to be happy I’m being violated. I know, I know they’re just doing their job…. but it was early in the morning.
NOW these big guys come over and yell at me. My horrid criminal self with the large size Burt’s Bees, and essentially three small extra items. He’s gonna haul me away in a second if I don’t calm down. I flash to myself on the news, the crazy woman screaming and kicking and no Thanksgiving for you lady. I wondered too what the hell happened to my Zen moment.
So, I step back a second. In all fairness to the lady, she’s trying to shove as much as she can into my quart bag and I think she is at least being nice, but I don’t care, I want to be done. The process, which is probably no more than a few minutes tops, feels like decades and I’m shakin’ like a junkie and I need to cry now.
So, I think they’re gonna run my stuff through the conveyor security thing again. That’s the point right? I had too many liquids that weren’t originally in the trusty quart bag. I know the rule.
But no, they just sent me on the way without a few of my products and most of my pride.
I knew I was wrong. A weak last minute moment that morning, throwing a few extra things in the bag. After I stopped crying I chastised myself.
I was gluttonous. I wanted to take the little niceties that help staying in three different places in five days a bit more manageable when you have all your HBA's with you.
On this Thanksgiving Eve, it’s nice to have such little problem right? I’m grateful for that. I feel like such a turkey now ☺