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Airport Amateurs

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Disclaimer: This blog post may come off angry to some - as it should - but much more than normal.  I spent several years as a consultant and therefore, was exposed to lots of travel and correspondingly, lots of airports.  As such, I've probably had more bad airport experiences than average.

For those of you who know me, you know that I am pretty laid back and even tempered. There are several things that peeve me beyond control, one of which is Airport Amateurs. If you read this and say to yourself, “yeah, I’m an airport amateur,” please do mankind a favor and start taking Amtrak.

I seriously cannot believe how many people out there give off the impression that they have not stepped on an airplane since 9/11. Have people not gotten the memo about taking off your goddamn Rockport’s when you go through security? And if you didn’t get the memo, did you not see the 12 signs right in your face while you meandered through the security line? Or perhaps you were too deaf and dumb to hear the TSA agents yelling it every 30 seconds. Repeat the above for laptops, metal objects and liquids/gels.

But it doesn’t stop there. Once I get through security, give a hearty exhale and subsequent “Woo-saaaaaahhhh (From the movie, Bad Boys),” I’m confronted yet again by more bush-league bullshit. I CANNOT STAND people who line up to board, 20 minutes before boarding is even set to begin, even after the gate agent specifically says that they will be boarding in 20 minutes and by zones. I’ve literally witnessed people stammering to clog the gate area holding tickets that say “zone 8”. Really, you stupid fuck?! Are you that eager about getting into a shitty plane seat and breathe re-circulated air? Holy burning bush Moses.

I recently took a trip to Vegas that almost bankrupted me fiscally and physically – but that’s beside the point. I flew out of JFK and experienced such bumbling idiot travelers, I literally committed a mutiny. First of course, were the people waiting to get to the next available self check-in counter and standing around with their thumbs in their butt. PAY ATTENTION! Why do I have to point out the open check-in kiosk right in front of your fat ugly face!  

Then the ever dreaded security line. Not only did it seem that no one had their ticket and ID/passport out to show the TSA agent, but once I actually made it to the metal detector line, I was behind what could have been the most inept ensemble of a mentally retarded family. The mom tries to walk through with her shoes on, the dad walks through with change in his pocket like he robbed a parking meter, the son doesn’t take the laptop out of his bag, and the daughter tries to walk through
with metal bracelets around her arms like she was in a "who could wear more gold chains" competition with B.A. Baracus (Mr. T). 

Now I was trying to hold my composure and
just shake my head back and forth like I just witnessed a man intentionally grab another man's penis in a public restroom. But when I saw the girl with all the fake gold and silver on her arm look at the TSA agent like, “what’s the problem?” after he pointed to her arms and told her she cant get through with all the jewelry on, I lost it and yelled “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Yeah, that cost me a full security check molestation by TSA agents. Whatever.

The main event was at the gate. As you all should know, flights typically start boarding 30 minutes before scheduled departure. My flight was at 4:30 and it was about 3:40 at this point – 20 minutes before they even start boarding First Class, Diamond Elite, Elite, and 100K flyers. The gate agent gets on the mic to make an announcement about all that procedural crap…”we’ll be boarding shortly, look at your ticket for the zone number, oversized bags will be have to be gate checked, blah, blah blah.”

No sooner then the gate agent finishes her message, this douche-y looking 20-something gets on his cell phone to make a call. Once the person on the other end picks up, he starts screaming and cussing like a man would do if his wife just closed the garage door on the family minivan. He’s yelling about, “WTF are you doing?! ...Where are you?! ...Get back here, we are about to board! Why the fuck are you dicking around when we are about to leave?!” I thought he was yelling at his girlfriend or wife. I really wanted to go off on this guy, because he’s giving the other person such a hard time about getting back to the gate, when we’re not even going to start boarding for another 20 minutes. Learning my lesson from the security line, I just kept quiet. What I wanted to say was, “Are you a fucking idiot?! Why are you making the person get back to the gate so fast?! We’re 20 minutes from boarding, and you’re holding a ticket that says ZONE 6! You’re not even getting on the plane for another 40 minutes!”

A minute after the ass-clown gets off the phone, I see his Dad show up. He starts yelling at him again, the dad just lowering his head like one of Michael Vick's dogs and they get up to be the first ones to stand around and cause unnecessary congestion. If I were this kid’s father, I would chop his nuts off and feed it to him. If my kid ever talks to me like that, you best believe his face is getting rearranged...INDEED.

So after I say excuse me, so I can get past the father-son combo blocking the line, I finally get on the plane for a glorious 6 hour flight. Just writing this has worked me up enough that I am not even going to get into the part about people who try to stuff what is clearly a gigantic suitcase into the overhead bin. These are the same folks whom as kids tried to stick the square peg into the circle cut out. (exhale)…wooo-saaaaaaaaaaah.

2 comments:

Chrissy said...

Hahahhaa this is hilarious! Ah and so true.

Coz said...

My god. The family ahead of me in the security line at O'hare this weekend must have been related to the one you encountered. It was a family of 3 that made similar transgressions as yours, except they took up ELEVEN bins. The best part was that the 5 year old caught on to what he had to do before his parents did. I wanted to buy him a beer to congratulate him on obviously being adopted.

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