Last In Line

I traveled to Atlanta yesterday to surprise my mother for her birthday. There was a little turbulence as we approached. Atlanta was trying to spit me out before I even landed. The birthday surprise went off without a hitch. I just showed up at the house. No crazy jumping out from around a corner yelling “surprise” or anything, but I walked in behind my brother (he’s big enough to hide behind) and when he casually dropped my name in conversation, I appeared.

Back to my airport mini-experience… I had my boarding pass already printed out. I wheeled on past the TSA drop-off and onto the security checkpoint. Showed my ID, everything checked out and I stood in one of the many lines like cattle. We took off our shoes, emptied pockets regurgitated, whatever was asked of us. I get up front and the guy tells me my bag is too big and I’ll have to check it in. First, I’m annoyed because I’ll have to PAY for that. Second, I have to go back and wait on another line to get my bag weighed, tagged and PAY for it.

“Why’d she let me through then?” I complained. Like I said, I wheeled past the agent with the bag. I had to stop in front of her, dig out my ID etc. There were security guards right by her too. No one knew my bag was too big?

The metal detector reader guy said he would take care of me personally. He walked me back out, asked the boarding pass checker lady why she let me through in the first place. Anyway, I get on the line for baggage check-in. 10:30. My flight is at 11:18. I got quick feet so I aint too worried about it yet. 10:48. Still getting my bag checked in. It was probably sitting on the scale for 10 minutes before the agent started attending to me. I get tagged, drop off my bag at TSA and then have to go back to the boarding pass checker lady who makes a half-statement, half-question about me being through already. When I get to the security checkpoint, there’s a woman with her daughter and just me on the line. The metal detector reader guy who said he would take care of me, of course, was nowhere to be found. I put my jacket, bag, cell phone, money and my little card carrier wallet type thing in the bin with my sneakers. They breezed on through. I set off the alarm.

“Got anything in your pockets? Maybe it’s your earrings, jewelry…” The metal detector lady says.

While I de-jewel, I another woman joined the line. I sent her ahead of me. Now I was the last in line. In a smaller bin, I place my earrings, my watch and my little Carmex jar. They’re all clear for take-off. I set off the alarm again.

“Anything hidden in your hair?” she asks. I said no, but found myself actually feeling around in my afro.

“Your belt?”

I lifted my shirt and showed my belt. The buckle is metal so I had to go back and take off my belt. Now my pants are sagging, showing off my period panties that I swear were up at my belly button. Since when do I wear my underwear that high?

Finally, no beep. I think I deserved a round of applause from the 7 agents that were there. Now I had to get dressed for the 2nd and a half time that day. I get to gate B7. Wow, no line! That’s because everyone was already on the plane.

An older couple was in the same row as me and Gramps sat in my window seat that I PAID for. They were gonna move but once the plane took off I would find another seat. A guy across the aisle asked if I wanted a window seat. I said yes, flashed my smile and ended up in the seat I was originally gonna choose online but didn’t because I wanted to be on the right side of the plane. Whatever, I got a window seat!

We had to wait a bit to take off because they changed our runway. That news didn’t sound so bad coming from a pilot who sounded like a very attractive man. I read the in-flight magazine and watched the other planes take-off. That is such a sexy sight. That lean soon after they take off – they dip one wing and turn. We were second to last in line; Air Canada was behind us. There was a light rain when we took off and the sky was free off all geese.