Honey, I'm Home...

Wow...what a vacation!

I wanted to start off telling you about Airports and Airplanes. Mostly because I am so fascinated with how people miss their flights and what that must do to your nervous system. Not to mention your wallet.

This is what the sky looked like on the way TO the Airport last week, by the way. (If you are wondering why I am capitalizing the two words starting with Air, it is simply because I have learned that Airports and Airplanes must be shown huuuge respect in order for everything to go smoothly. Don't p*ss off the Air-words.)

Because we fly jetBlue, our flights back East are always very late at night. Because my husband usually drops us off at the Airport, we have to go very early so he can get home and get to bed at a decent hour. Which leaves us in the wind for a few enjoyable hours - hours spent shopping, eating, reading, and people watching. Oh. And getting through Security. (Another word to capitalize...)

Now remember, I have three children to entertain: this means going up and down the escalator one million times, TCBY at an ungodly hour, pleas for Gatorade and many trips to the potty. Although we got through security just fine and got to our concourse just fine and checked in our luggage just fine - I was completely frazzled when we learned that our flight was an hour behind schedule. Soooo...I decided that I would do a very logical thing: I would go have a smoke. I would simply go back out the way I came and it would kill a few minutes and save the children from certain death-by-strangulation. Besides, it would be several hours before I could afford myself that luxury again.

My time outside was wonderful. And then I got a txt from my daughter: The plane had arrived after all, and they would be boarding in 20 minutes. (Here is where I learn how stressful it is to be late for a flight.) The mad dash back inside must have been comical, because I got pulled out of line in security and shown to my own private screener...ohmygawd.

First thing she asks me is, "Have you been here before?".

I replied that I had, but had foolishly stepped outside for a smoke and needed to pass through quickly if possible. Smiling, (evil-like, now that I look back on it) she told me to enter this small plexi-glass booth and stand very still. Which I did. And then she SHOT me with SEVERAL puffs of rapid fire air...I swear I thought I had been killed. I screamed of course, and hit the ground which is exactly what you are supposed to do when being shot.

Laughingly, (smirking, really) the Security Demon told me to come on out...to which I shrieked something like,"You really should tell a body before you do something like that!".

"Dear, you told me you had been here before!" she giggled.

I tried hard not to mumble and pee my pants simultaneously while explaining that I had been through the NICE Security Line - the only crime I had committed to deserve this was going out for a smoke! To which she replied, "Guess you won't do THAT again, huh?". Ugh.

Needless to say, it was some shaky legs that carried me back to the terminal where I had just enough time to take the kids potty once more, and then collapse on our seats in the Airplane. Which was pretty close to departing on time...Until the steward noticed that the two guys DIRECTLY behind me were almost unconscious. (Apparently, they went to the bar instead of going out for a smoke.)

Deciding that it was too dangerous to leave the drunkards in the aisle reserved for quick escape in case of Aircraft Malfunction, they asked them to switch seats with two lovely ladies up front. And switch they did. Which should have fixed everything. Except for the ladies popped right back up again, demanding their original seats back. Unbeknownst to all, the gentlemen had vomited on the floor...and the seats...and on the Airsick Bag. So of course, the Airline Staff asked them to exit the Airplane and take a later flight when they were sure to feel much better. So, leave they did...but not before assaulting the First Officer on their way off the plane! Whaaa?!

It seems that assault on an Airplane is a Federal Offense - requiring a visit from the FBI or the CIA or whoever it is that takes 1 1/2 hours to arrive in their unmarked cars to haul drunk b*stards to the pokey.

Our Airplane left the tarmac three hours later than planned. I could have smoked a whole damn pack by then.

Oh, by the way... I tried the whole leave-the-terminal-and-brave-Security-again-to-have-a-smoke in New York on the way home, too. With much calmer results. Our plane was 15 minutes early arriving home.

God Bless Airplanes and Airports and Security. And also the FBI/CIA/IRS/whoever it is...