Tag Archives: airports

The Terrible Plane Passenger

22 Feb

I hope this doesn’t come off as rude or offensive, but it’s my blog and I can be honest here and say that there are just some people in this world that I would rather not sit next to on a plane.  Does this make me a bad person?  No.  Does this make me think anything less of those people?  Absolutely not! after all I’ve been that person (story to follow)…. but given the option I can guarantee that you’re not going to be the one to volunteer to take the middle seat inbetween the sweet precious tantrum baby and the [I’m sure, very] friendly man with the absolutely horrendous BO.  Amiright?!

That being said, I’ve taken the liberty of creating….

The World’s Best Worst Airplane Seating Chart:

plane seating chart

Isn’t this what it always feels like every time you fly!?

*Honorable mentions go to The Mean Parent, Over-Sized Dreads Guy, The Won’t Pull Down The Shade When The Sun Is Beaming In Your Face Kid, Everyone’s BFF (not to be confused with the Jokester or Oversharer), The Flight Attendant Brown Noser and last but not least… The Cougher.
**My personal favorite is The Panicked Flier… I once sat next to a woman that insisted that I walk up and down the aisle with her before take-off to physically touch/count every aisle seat on the way to the emergency exit in case it was too smokey to see when the plane went down.  She also wore nylon socks because the material is less flammable than cotton….?  Because when the plane goes up in flames heaven forbid my socks catch on fire.  I wish I could make this stuff up, but alas.. true story.

I got to go to back to Abilene for Sing Song and an unofficial friend reunion of sorts this past weekend… it was my first time going to Sing Song since since I was in it FIVE YEARS AGO.  I’ve learned there are two things in this world that make you feel old: 1 – 5 year reunions of any variety and 2 – your hands being sore from playing skee ball (yes, I experienced both this weekend).

It was seriously sooooo great to catch up with old friends, professors, go to Friday praise chapel on campus (tears!), hangout with the fam, hangout with Granny and friends at her ‘retirement village’ … all in all awesome.  So awesome in fact that I got a total of six hours sleep between Thursday night and Friday night, and 45 minutes of sleep Saturday… My flight was out of Dallas at 830a Sunday morning so my friend and I woke up at 5a to drive to DFW so I could catch my flight.  Have I mentioned that girl is a saint?

We struuuuuuuuggled to stay awake on our three hour drive but any attempt at remaining coherent was completely useless.  She stayed awake by driving 95 MPH (God bless Texas highways) with her hand out the sunroof and/or grabbing ice from her Whataburger cup to rub on her face.  I don’t know how I stayed awake because I pretty much just stared straight ahead and tried to keep up conversation as we watched the sunrise.

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

you try staying awake driving through three hours of THIS!

In the last hour of the ride delirium started kicking in and I somehow convinced myself that I had forgotten to purchase my return flight.  I spent the next 40 minutes on the phone with various airlines asking if they had a reservation for me, only to realize that I was flying on the same airline as I flew in on because I had in fact bought a round trip ticket… (shocking, I know).  I also discovered while waiting in the security line at the airport that I had lost my phone… only to realize a full 24 hours later that I had put in my wallet (where I always keep it); nevermind the fact that I opened my wallet to get my ID out, put my ID away, get my debit card out and put my debit card away in that 24-hour time frame. That’s four accounts of quite literally touching my phone and having no idea where I had left it.  I made it through security and went to my gate… well, the wrong gate.  After standing in line to board a flight to Philadelphia for 12 minutes I realized I was at gate 38 and my ticket said gate 28.  2’s and 3’s look pretty similar….  (just go with it).

After that crazy fiasco of a morning, I somehow managed to make it on the correct plane and sat down in the correct seat.  Let’s call this a win.  Little did the guy next to me know what was in store for him.

I made absolutely no attempt to be friendly and I think the frazzled hair, 24-hour old makeup and disheveled yoga pants + hoodie fashion statement was enough to keep me from finding my new best friend for the next three hours.  Needless to say, I was left alone and passed out as soon as I heard the flight attendant say “San Diego.”  Aaaaaaaaand we’re off!

I have no idea how far along into the flight we were or how long I had been asleep… but I was startled awake by the man sitting next to me.  Why you ask?  Oh only because

I WAS SNORING IN HIS FACE.

I like to think I looked something like this....

I like to think I looked something like this….

this is probably a little more realistic...

this is probably a little more realistic…

 

I kid you not, my head was turned all the way to my left facing upwards, mouth gaping open, breathing and SNORING less than four inches from this poor man’s face.  It had to have been even worse than what I’m envisioning because when I opened my eyes the two people sitting behind me were quite literally standing up out of their seats to try and catch a glimpse of the obnoxious, rude, horrendously disgusting person (aka: me) that was the talk of the entire plane.

I was so confused when he woke me up I just ended up flinging my hands out in front of me to catch my balance [in the extremely stationary plane seat], tried for .3 seconds to figure out where I was but quickly turned my head to the other side and fell right back asleep.  How rude of that guy to wake me up! (kidding)

When we the plane touched down I was jolted awake and wiped the drool from the sides of my mouth.  I casually looked at the man next to me and judging by the fact that he moved his mouth, chuckled and pumped his eyebrows up and down I can only assume he said something to me… I didn’t understand him or attempt an effort to respond.  I looked at him confused and propped my head back on the seat waiting to deboard.  Man, I bet HE felt awkward!  Idiot.  (kidding)

I got home, crawled in bed and fell asleep by 11a.  I woke up Monday morning at 6a to head to work and was quite the peach that day, let me tell ya 😉

I guess when most people fly, they walk of the plane with a story about some crazy person they had to sit next to.  Well in this case, I am that crazy person and I have to tell the story on myself :/ I do however take great comfort in the fact that I provided that man (and a plane) with a story to tell to their friends and families that picked them up from the airport.  You’re welcome, World.

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I Am A Security Threat At The San Diego International Airport

3 Dec

The notifications I received after my two hour flight on my Facebook status had me sincerely worried that I had accidentally announced a pregnancy, or changed relationship status, or posted pictures from my engagement photoshoot… but alas – it was the butter knife.  And you guys don’t even know the whole story!  Allow me to elaborate…

fbstatus

The story must begin with the loaf of pumpkin bread I made last week.  Every Tuesday I take an early train to LA and spend the day in back to back to back meetings.  I was in a rush and didn’t have time to eat breakfast… so rather than sit and eat I loaded up the last slice of my pumpkin bread into a tupperware container.  It comes as no surprise that pumpkin bread is infinitely better with cream cheese (Norte knows what I’m talking about!), so even though I felt like a bit of a goob for what I was about to do… I slabbed some cream cheese onto one side of the tupperware (no time to spread), grabbed a knife from the drawer and was out the door.

Upon taking my seat on the train, I unfolded the tray table, pulled out my laptop, and finally had a chance to munch on my pumpkin-bread-with-cream-cheese breakfast.  Ok yes, it definitely felt weird being the girl on the train unraveling a feast in her seat… but meh, I’ve definitely imposed worse on myself.

Fast forward to Thursday morning (two days later)… I was up at 4a, in a taxi at 5a, and at the airport at 5:15a to go to our San Francisco office for a couple days of meetings.  I always get nervous traveling for work so I typically do a thorough pack job the night before and triple check that I have everything I need before I walk out the door in the morning.

As I approached airport security (insert obligatory TSA joke here), I went through my standard remove coat, shoes, laptop from bag system; I have it down to a science… I hate holding up lines!  I passed through the metal scanner without any issues and stood at the end of the baggage conveyor belt waiting for my bags.

Waiting.  Waiting.  Waiting.

My fellow commuters in the line that was forming behind me were getting frustrated expressed through  heavy sighs, checking of watches, etc. Newbs standing behind the monitor reviewing the skeletor of all the bags was looking around for someone to help her identify an item in one of the bags.  There was no one to be found.  Great.

The more time that passed the more uncomfortable the line situation got.  People started standing on their tiptoes to see what who the holdup was so they knew where to direct their anger.  I stared at the girl directly behind me hoping to convince her, myself, and all the other passengers with my eyes that she was in fact was holding up the line, but that didn’t seem to work.

Newbs finally found Employee2, a more experienced set of eyes, and the two of them stared at the screen for a minute.  As if that wasn’t enough, Employee2 could not identify the object and called Employee3 over.  More stares.  Panic was setting in… not for me, but for the people looking at this bag.  Could this be a bomb?!  Are we under attack??  Is there a terrorist up in hurrrrr??  The reaction of the Newbs, Employee2 and Employee3 was not so comforting to myself or any of the nearby passengers.

Employee3 finally reached into the machine to grab the bag causing the slight delay panic in the security line.  It was my bag.

She approached me cautiously and said, “Excuse me ma’am, is this your bag?”  I tried to hide my nervousness with the confidence of a well versed, mature, upstanding commuter tone by saying “Yes.  Is there a problem?” (inside my guilty self hunkered down died a little).

This woman then gave me very specific instructions… “Please walk over to the table and we are going to need to check your bag…. No, no ma’am. please stand on this side so I can be standing directly to the machine…. Ma’am will you please set your bags down and stand back?”  My gosh… I was trying so hard to follow her instructions but everything I did was wrong.  People were staring.

The next words out of her mouth as she was swiping my bag for remnants of  bomb making materials were “Do you have any utensils in your bag?”  I’m sorry, what??  “Utensils, Ma’am.”

I immediately denied, because that’s what any first grader 26 year old would do.  Until I had the pumpkin bread flashback.  I sincerely wish I was able to provide some kind of filter, but I loudly proclaimed “OOOMMMGGG!!!! YES!!! I DO!!! It’s a butterknife from spreading cream cheese on Tuesday!!! hahahaha”  People tell me I give too much information… I have no idea why.

I wanted to dig out the butterknife causing this horrendous holdup but I knew better than to challenge Employee3’s authority by reaching into my bag, unauthorized, at the security checkpoint table.  The results were in and my bag was free of any bomb making materials, so I told her she could just dive in my bag and get the butterknife.  She was not so impressed and my lack of professionalism with regards to the butterknife scare.

She dug and dug and I even had to instruct her “No, not there… probably further down… yeah, under my laptop… maybe even under that filing index.  Yeah just go all the way towards the bottom…”  Then she pulled it out in all its glory… my butterknife.

Once she removed the metal weapon butterknife from my bag I figured they were just going to throw it out and I could finally get out of there.  You’d think… however that’s when Employee3 decided to rally her TSA employee of the year nominations by tracking down a supervisor that would allow me to take a butterknife (keyword, knife) on the plane.  Please no.  Please just stop.

I tried to stop her three separate times as she bolted back and forth between supervisors… she even rubbed the edge of the butterknife over her head with her gloved hand as she yelled across the security area prove it was not in fact a a sharp object.  She was acting as if I was throwing a tantrum about not being able to take my butterknife on the plane.  Look, lady… I already ate my pumpkin bread.  Please let me continue my 5a commute in peace.

And THAT my friends is the story of the time I tried to takeover the world carry a butterknife through airport security at the San Diego International Airport.