In a Bad Mood

It’s 6:57 a.m. and I’m already in a bad mood. It’s unusual for me to be in a bad mood. So, you may ask, how can it possibly have already occured before 7 a.m.?

I’m in the airport. I’ve had dealings with airline employees. I have interacted with TSA officials. What more needs be said?

To top it off, I got up at 4:30 this morning. I don’t like getting up long before the crack of dawn. Well, unless I just happen to be.

I’m in Wichita – little airport – never any big lines. I spent 20 minutes in the screening line, with less than 10 people in front of me. I thought surely someone must be on the terrorist list. No. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the TSA official who looked at my boarding pass for a good two minutes. There’s not that much information on one. She acted like she’d never seen one before, that it was the first one she’d ever held in her hands. I would think in her line of work they’d come along pretty regularly.

By the time she was done, my various belongings had been through the xray machine and were sitting there for anyone to take. Of course, everyone else was busy redressing themselves – like we all want to take our shoes off and walk on your nasty carpet while we hop along trying to get our laptops out and lay our bags flat and hand you pieces of paper that will mystify you.

On the positive side – because I always like to find a positive side – there’s free wireless.

Well, I should go use the ladies room before being herded on board. Besides, it will give me a chance to move away from the idiot teenagers sitting behind me. He’s talking continually about living in NY and she’s doing that stupid giggly thing like he’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen or heard. He thinks he’s entertaining all of us. She thinks we’re impressed that she knows him.I hope to goodness they’re in the back of the plane, away from me. They should give you an “annoyance factor” when you’re choosing your seats.

I’m reminded of the nine hour flight from Paris next to the French skateboarder. But, that’s another story…