So available light and I are running a little late for our flight. We have to park kinda far out because it’s crowded, when we get up to the baggage check it’s hell of crowded. Whatever, no helping that. Then I notice the TSA is running analyses on everyone’s checked bags to spot potential bomb chemicals, well I guess that’s a reasonable precaution in this age but it’s gonna slow us down, oh well.
We get up to the counter, there’s apparently a new policy that no one who checks baggage may get a boarding pass, you get a pass for the security checkpoint but you have to get a boarding pass at the gate. I don’t say anything, but I’m thinking that’s a pretty pointless policy that only serves to slow things down. a.l. asks the clerk if we are going to make the flight that leaves in about 1/2 hour, he says yeah sure you’ll be fine. Uh, ok, I guess, whatever.
So we stand in line again at the security checkpoint, it’s hella long too. a.l. asks an employee if we can get put at the head of the line for our flight at 9:05, he says we’re fine. Time passes, snails pass us, the same guy comes back around pulling people for a 9:10 to Salt Lake. a.l. says again, we have a 9:05 to San Diego, he says stay there you’re fine. By now the two of us are running low on cooling rods, and that neutron cascade is looming nearer. So Dipshit comes around again, anyone have a 9:10 to Salt Lake or a 9:05 to Burbank, a.l. says we have a 9:05 to San Diego, you can hedar the alarms beginning to redline around the edges of her voice. Dipshit says stay in line, you’ll be fine, as if the line will move faster for those who are San Diego bound rather than Burbank bound. Cooling rods slam into place, but it’s definitely becoming a crisis situation. Dipshit comes around one more time, repeat of last time, this time he acknowledges that perhaps our situation may in fact be analogous to that of whoever might be flying to Burbank. Of course by this time we only moved ahead of a handful of people.
a.l. thinks it would be a good idea if she ran ahead to gate to get our boarding passes, or at least ask them to wait for us, so she leaves me to the carryon bag and the last few people let her ahead of them. So the last guy in front of me is an old man in a wheelchair, I’m putting the carryon in a bin, putting my change and keys in my jacket and putting that in a bin, taking off my sandles and putting those in a bin, and I notice that the line is stopped. They are making the old man stand up and stagger through the metal detector. It’s clear he can barely stand while leaning heavily on a 4-legged cane.
It’s all I can do not to scream, For fuck’s sake, what the hell is wrong with you dickheads?! What are you gonna do if he falls over, shove him to the side and ignore him? You heartless fucking assholes! Then they turn down the sensitivity on the metal detector and someone pulls the wheelchair through. Well guess what you mental deficients, the detector isn’t gonna detect shit that way. Of course, I realize having a reactor breach isn’t gonna do me or him any favors, so I don’t say anything.
So finally I get through, only to meet a.l. coming towards me annoyed and frustrated. We missed our flight.
FAWK! says I. No one notices, because surely they are busy FAWK!ing themselves.
a.l. tells me that the gate attendant was quite bitchy at her for deigning to inquire about boarding passes after the cutoff time. Ms. Bitch: Are you confirmed? a.l.: I dunno, what’s that mean? Ms. Bitch: ARE YOU CONFIRMED? Etc. Anyway, we go to a different gate for the nex flight, see if we can get standby on the next flight, but eventually decide to transfer our tickets to a 4:00, go home for a few hours, and take a nap.
Lather, rinse, repeat, but with less foam this time because it’s not as busy. Except… I forgot to take off my goddamn pocket knife from my keyring. I forgot to do it the first time, and the security people didn’t notice, so the second time I was even more not thinking about it, if that’s possible. I’m even looking at the sign that says No Dangerous Shit, That Means You Mutha Fucka. It’s a tiny knife, only 2 inches if that, and not very sharp, but it’s still a knife, and therefore Dangerous Shit. This time as I walk through the x-ray guy notices, opens my jacket pocket, and says I can’t take the knife, I can either take it back to the car or they can keep it.
And there goes the last cooling rod, and I’m the neutron that started the cascade.
Dammit, why didn’t you leave that at home?! says a.l.
Feeling exceedingly stupid, especially since I’m always complaining about stupid people, I say I can take it back to the car. Meanwhile X-Ray passed the knife to Ms. Do Something About This Asshole, and she’s asking if we want to put the knife in the car or surrender it. a.l. asks if there’s any other options while also glaring at me, I’m sort of sputtering uselessly, Ms. Do Something is saying we can mail it to ourselves over there. a.l. is saying forget it, i don’t want to deal with it, Do Something is asking if I’m sure I want to surrender it, maybe it has some sentimental value, a.l. says Arrrgh, I gave it to him, just get rid of it we can get another one they’re cheap.
But I like my Dangerous Microshit. It’s good for clipping hangnails and opening envelopes. And I don’t want another one, I want this one. I know it only cost half a mil (that’s $510[sup]-4[/sup], not $510[sup]5[/sup]), but still.
a.l. looks at me and says, do whatever you want, i’m going to the gate.
I go back to the car.
I meet her at the gate, we both apologize, I offer half a greasy slice of a pepperoni pizza as a peace offering. She’s not hungry, but that’s OK because I eat all of it. Mmmm, pizza.