Flight 161, DFW to DEN

I had an unusually eventful trip back from Ft. Worth the other day, and I thought you might find it interesting.

Got to the airport, checked in at the kiosk while 50 other people stood in line for a desk agent. Don’t they know the glories of airport machinery?

Got in security line with the bottom outside pocket of my suitcase open because it has the liquid goods in it that I’m about to remove (more on that in a second). Kindly woman behind me in line tells me that the bottom of my suitcase is open. I just smile at her and tell her it’s okay. Not til I get to the scanner do I see that the actual bottom of my suitcase is unzipped, and clothes are sneaking out. Kind of feel like an idiot. Think that somewhere behind me she must be staring and feeling smug.

Spent the rest of the time in the security line wondering whether they were going to bug me about the fact that my clear plastic zip-top bag was in fact a gallon size, instead of a quart. Picked up the bag they provide and saw that it is actually something more like a pint, not a quart, and there was no way I could fit all of my goods in there. Decide to chance it and get through.

Went to Burger King in the hopes of some ounce of protein/nutrition. Indian guy ahead of me orders a Croissan’wich* without the meat or egg, for which I am grateful because I’m about to order one without meat and I am happy to have someone forge that path ahead of me (a treacherous one at places like Burger King). Started a conversation in my head, which went something like this: Do Hindus also not eat eggs? Why? Are they used to going to Burger King? How awful. Seems like there are plenty of other good things they could eat. A croissant with some American cheese on it just doesn’t seem like it would fit the bill.

Sat eating my Croissanwich, sans meat, and watched the plane before mine disembarking (debarking?). See a guy from my neighborhood get off the plane, a guy who I met once at a community gathering, and whom I always see on the bus in town. Weird.

Went up to the desk to ask a question, but had to wait for the desk agent to get off his cell phone, talking to goodness knows who about some possible emergency at home.

Finally, he gets off:

Me: Is there any way to swap my window seat for an aisle?
Older man who suddenly springs up beside me: Is this where you place your breakfast order? (obviously joking)
Desk agent: Only seats left are middle seats, honey.
Me: Okay, thanks (kind of annoyed that I just got called honey).
Older man: Don’t take the last of the eggs benedict!
Me, looking at the older man strangely: uh, huh, ok.

Older man wanders off too, and I wonder if he came up to the desk when I did just to pull my leg.

Got in line to board and watched the boarding agent tell a passenger, somewhat harshly, that she has to have a stroller tag. The agent’s primary language is something like Chinese, so her exhortations seem even harsher. Then she starts arguing with the other desk agent about who exactly is going to get her the stroller tag. Poor stroller-laden woman doesn’t know what to do.

Later, when everyone is seated, Chinese agent gets on the plane, and tells a little man across the aisle from me that the box he’s checked is not going to make it on. “Your BOX is not going on the plane!” she says. Then the other desk agent tells him that the airline is not responsible for the perishable stuff in the box. It’s not clear why the BOX is not going to make it on, but Chinese agent just keeps saying “the BOX, it’s not coming on the plane. The BOX.” The little man apparently does not speak fluent English, so she just keeps getting louder. Or this woman just likes to yell at people.

Weird. After that everything seemed okay. Meaning, after we got the heck out of Texas everything seemed okay.

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*Is that the correct apostrophe placement? I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a Croissanw’ich before so it’s hard to tell.