tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post5107967457826356981..comments2020-03-26T08:28:38.165-06:00Comments on Life Unpublished: Two Trips and a LossAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10323759531297056433noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-74127745076909691012013-05-30T10:47:25.741-06:002013-05-30T10:47:25.741-06:00I've never lost anything, but I have forgotten...I've never lost anything, but I have forgotten to take out my liquids on several occasions (and not been asked). I've also passed forgotten pocket knives a few times. One of those times they searched my wallet (apparently the RE card shows up on scans), but not my luggage. Another time I got a partial pat down because my two - very small crosses might have been concealing something lethal. (Those crosses have gone through multiple airports without incident before and since.<br />Oh, and one time they swabbed my hands for hazardous materials. I don't recommend flying when the alert level is orange. :PCall Me Heretichttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00083173239961615819noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-4297001815909145542013-05-22T20:58:14.422-06:002013-05-22T20:58:14.422-06:00Wow. I don't fly, thus I have no stories to te...Wow. I don't fly, thus I have no stories to tell. I do however have a powerful urge to write a novel about a young woman who takes over a plane with a 4 oz. tube of face cleaner... news at 11. o.OAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-36845583960349000462013-05-20T18:43:00.320-06:002013-05-20T18:43:00.320-06:00Coming back from London, we queued up at the secur...Coming back from London, we queued up at the security check. Long line. Bailey and I had distributed the weight between our suitcases, because of all the souvenirs we had. We had gone back and forth a few times between our rooms, distributing various items until we had to rush out to get on the bus. So standing in line, waiting my turn for the highly anticipated patting down (hey I'm single, it's been awhile,) I remembered a tiny little brown bag with assorted items we purchased the night before. In that tiny little brown paper bag were two contraptions, combination knife-fork-corkscrew-machete type fold up thingies. My heart fell to my feet! Holy Bangers and Mash, I was going to get arrested! So I pulled them out and handed them over to the guy behind the counter with my saddest face. "Here, I was supposed to put these in my suitcase and forgot." He looked at me funny, opened the sack and peeked in. Looked at me again, showed them to the lady at the x-ray machine and handed them back to me. "It's okay." My mouth flew open and I started to protest that they would allow a machete on the air plane (okay, I think it may be critical here that I fess up and say it was about a 2 inch long by 1/2 wide machete, but still a machete is a machete, right?) Before I could school him on his lax attitude toward his job, I snapped my mouth shut, took the sack and went on about my business. I decided then and there, I had the most powerful pout in the history of woman kind. LOL. Good thing, I didn't have to go through Denver, though. I don't know but they are immune to pouting powers.<br /><br />~LaDonnaAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-52699044057261526732013-05-20T18:40:31.530-06:002013-05-20T18:40:31.530-06:00Hahaha, Katie Cross,you totally had me going - and...Hahaha, Katie Cross,you totally had me going - and I'd super appreciate it if you'd make up an ending for me now. Garrett - as I read your tale I was freaking out thinking "Was he driving?!"<br /><br />Once my DH saw batman one lonely night when we were driving through Arkansas, but I digress.<br /><br />Half the time I go through airport security I get a pat down on my calves. I have unnaturally large calves. Now I blame this on the fact that I'm a runner, but the fact is I've always had them. I do not know what they think I'm packing in my calves, but fly easy knowing you are safe from my He-Man calves.<br /><br />Since I fly often, I get impatient with the whole process. Especially when I'm being scanned like I'm at the hospital and a bunch of guys, who work inside, are going through their own private doorway - sans screening - with their man purses and their bums hanging out the back of their trousers. So I don't always feel so cooperative, and I dangerously leave my banana flavored hand sanitizer dangling on my purse instead of sticking it inside the plastic bag, and I try to sneak toothpaste in too. Because you have to pay $6 to buy it inside, and I NEED it with me.<br /><br />But the worst thing I did was give my son his backpack, go through security way ahead of him, and watch him get stopped because I'd left several bottles of water in it.<br />Oopsie. Mother of the Year I am not. I did rush over and confess the whole thing. They were very forgiving fortunately. So was my son, luckily.<br />S.R. Karfelthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13883350104178044005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-41674507856623381152013-05-20T15:47:27.675-06:002013-05-20T15:47:27.675-06:00My only exciting thing that comes from flying is t...My only exciting thing that comes from flying is that I cannot sleep on airplanes. So when I went to East Asia over this last Spring Break, I was up for 30+ hours straight both ways. Excitement held me over for the trip there, but that same enthusiasm was not around on the way back.<br /><br />Needless to say, after far too much flying we had another 3 hour drive home from Missoula. I had been up for around 30 hours at that point, and the fatigue was slowly pulling me under to the point where I was hallucinating things on the windshield as we drove back. Big crawly millipedes that had no business being on a Subaru windshield in a blizzard were making their way across the window until they disappeared when I tried to focus on them. <br /><br />I also would start to pass out if I stopped singing along to the music in the car, so I stayed in a half-singing, half-dozing off state for about half the trip. One minute I'd be belting out harmonies to a random worship song, the next I'd be catching my head as it fell down from exhaustion. I'm sure it was quite odd for the driver to watch me drift in and out between lyrics.<br /><br />I wish I had some cooler stories like you all, though! That sounds equal parts nerve-wracking and fun!Garrett Heidehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07592499433617804349noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-79951645139269734582013-05-20T10:58:31.613-06:002013-05-20T10:58:31.613-06:00Katie, that was beautiful! I was so intrigued and ...Katie, that was beautiful! I was so intrigued and wanted to know what happened next.<br /><br />I wonder what it was you would have brought.<br /><br />Actually, something not as bad as that DID happen to me because I left a metal card in my wallet ("Ragged Edge Edition"). They kept scanning it and asking me what could be in there. They searched everything and then it donned on me. <br />I don't bring that with me anymore...Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10323759531297056433noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-83245462609080755102013-05-20T10:50:45.978-06:002013-05-20T10:50:45.978-06:00OH! Let me tell you MY airport security story!
As...OH! Let me tell you MY airport security story!<br /><br />As a single girl, I was a major traveller. So I was in line, on my way to the Bahamas to enjoy some sun and sand, taking the opportunity to people watch as I waited for the security line ahead of me.<br /><br />Little did I know the nightmare that awaited.<br /><br />I slid my computer into it's own container, pulled my purse off my shoulders and slipped my shoes off. Then I pushed the boxes towards the scanner and innocently waited behind the obese woman in front of me. She was wearing turquoise earrings. It doesn't mean anything, but I thought you'd like to know.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure that was the point when red lights started flashing and a stream of Army Rangers came parachuting into the airport, all guns pointed at me. <br /><br />All I could think as a group of very angry looking men escorted me away was: what had I left in my purse?<br /><br />Security guards surrounded me as we walked, and I was taken into a back room. There was only one table and one chair. I'm pretty sure there was one of those two-way mirrors. I didn't even know they had those in airports!<br /><br />Instead of sitting, I began to pace. I was physically sick to my stomach. What happened? What could I have left in my purse? They must have made a mistake.<br /><br />Then the door creaks open and this huge man walks in with a not-welcoming expression.<br /><br />"So..." he said, throwing a paper bag on the table. "You're the girl that tried to bring this into the airport. You think you're smarter than us?"<br /><br />.....<br /><br />Just kidding. <br /><br />I don't have a cool airport security story, at least not as cool as yours. I think I had a security guy try and flirt with me once? So I had to make one up.<br /><br />And I've never been to the Bahamas, or even tried to go.<br />KChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03924028116296474975noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-69886725277505811162013-05-20T10:07:48.715-06:002013-05-20T10:07:48.715-06:00Oh Bailey, thank you for that lovely Monday mornin...Oh Bailey, thank you for that lovely Monday morning laugh. You have your mom's knack for telling a funny story. Pictured the whole thing!<br />I hate flying. Hate it so much. I feel nothing good ever happens there. Once had two large Germans sit behind me and kick my seat the entire trip because I was "jiggling her tray" while I slept.<br />I was 12.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10323759531297056433noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314670630524913263.post-50904044162474120112013-05-20T10:02:20.958-06:002013-05-20T10:02:20.958-06:00Haha I've come pretty close once or twice to g...Haha I've come pretty close once or twice to going out the wrong door, but never actually done it! With my luck I wouldn't have any tickets or ID on me. <br />I have lots of strange airport stories, none quite as adventurous as yours though. My experiences tend to revolve around strange people and stranger conversations, or running like mad through the airport, or Terminal F, or stupid Philly, or stupid US Airways. <br />However, one amusing story for now, the bits I remember at least- lack of sleep will do funny things to your memory. I flew home the day after the Boston Marathon. I’d been on vacation, hadn’t slept in OVER 72 HOURS, had strep, an ear infection (AND what I now refer to as “the Mexican disease”,) had gotten to my hotel around midnight, had less than three hours in my hotel, and took a sketchy 3AM shuttle to the airport (driven by the hotel janitor/manager). Apparently the airport didn’t actually open till 430, so all the stores were closed, which was fine considering I had massive suitcases to lug about and was too sore to swallow. I was able to stay awake, eventually check in and go through security where my hair was patted down persistently (never know what I keep in there!), then sequester myself into a corner of the waiting area and pitifully cry while I tried to swallow a bagel. Some old ladies tried to steal my window seat- don’t mess with me when I’m sick and tired!- but then I did a lovely dead faint into my food tray while they hissed about me ever-so-quietly. I wake up when we land (never a good moment), drag myself to my next gate and begin to pass out again when a man (doctor) sits down next to me and strikes up a conversation. Mostly one-sided, mind you, because I definitely had no interest at that moment in the history of million dollar clubs, DJ music, or chapstick. And I definitely didn’t need to watch the videos of surgeries involving cadavers or live donors on his phone. Or hear about the family history of my seat partner on my last flight. I mean, I’m fine with meeting new people, but when I’m sucking down cough drops three at a time and crying over a bagel, have food-tray impressions on my face, am practically holding my eyelids open and breathing the Mexican plague…who the heck would be dumb enough to talk to me?!<br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15582765922024638420noreply@blogger.com