Chirky

I tend to think of myself as a responsible traveler. I check the TSA website. I pack my liquids and gels in my checked luggage. I try not to overstuff my carry on, if only because I want to avoid the exhausted sighs and eye-rolling from other passengers as I break a sweat jamming my luggage into the overhead bin.

But this weekend? I looked like a novice. I broke down and cried. In front of the TSA agents. And then I recorded my account of our departure from Dallas for the Internet:

Saturday, October 21, 2006
4:45 a.m.: Alarm blaring. Too early to wake up.

5:06 a.m.: Finally manage to pull myself out of bed. Fumble around in the shower.

6:28 a.m.: Roger and I are still at home. We live 45 minutes from the airport. Our flight begins boarding in 25 minutes. I am hyperventilating.

6:30 a.m.: Speed down highway. Pray we don't get pulled over.

7:08 a.m.: We had one bag to check, which missed the cut off time. Bag is checked onto a flight that arrives two hours after us.

7:12 a.m.: Contemplate whether we should join our bag or pick it up at the airport later in the day. Curse ourselves for checking luggage in the first place.

7:14 a.m.: After only a tiny bit of deliberation, decide to switch flights so we can arrive with our bag.

7:14:06 a.m.: Am disappointed to arrive after noon instead of in the early-ish morning.

7:25 a.m.: Our original flight is departing right now.

7:26 a.m.: Leave airport. Buy lotion and granola bars at CVS drugstore.

8:05 a.m.: Park, ride shuttle to airport. Airport worker stops us. He is grumpy because his job sucks. Hear him yelling something about the lotion we purchased.

8:05:43 a.m.: Realize I already checked all my liquids and Ziploc bags. He continues searching my belongings and discovers lip gloss.

8:13 a.m.: Protest. Refuse to surrender MAC lip gloss.

8:17 a.m.: Grumble about lack of ziplocs for sale. Shouldn't they be in a vending machine or something? Am forced to check my carry on luggage with lotion and MAC lip gloss.

8:26 a.m.: Security check is peppered with TSA agents yelling, "All liquids and gels need to be in a Ziploc bag! If it makes you look good, smell good, feel good, it needs to go in a Ziploc bag!" [I snicker.] "All creams, lotions, and gels – in a Ziploc bag!"

8:27 a.m. Stress-induced crying begins. TSA agents hate me and my lip gloss. The world is maybe coming to an end.

9:42 a.m. And? I'm menstrual.

It turns out that a lipgloss I had packed and forgotten about made it through security with no issues, so my lips were able to stay gloriously succulent and shiny instead of dry and cracked. Also? I learned that TSA agents are relying more on your subconscious than their ability to properly inspect your bags for liquids and gels.

That said, I'm totally setting up a base camp outside the airport, where I'm going to sell individual quart-sized Ziploc bags for a dollar to all the yuppies whose subconscious gives them the ultimatum to either relinquish their toothpaste or throw it away. And judging by the number of people in Dallas who forgot theirs, I'm going to make millions.