Canadian Tuxedo Optional (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} michaelpop) wrote,@ 2007-12-05 11:59:00 |
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The days get shorter and the nights get cold; I like the autumn but this place is getting old
I traveled to St. Louis the other day on business and for 23 hours I played the role of a consummate businessman. In my head I kept trying to hype up what I was doing to make it seem more important and exciting than it really was. Like I was somehow an integral cog in the wheels of commerce, a mover and/or shaker for a Fortune 500 company, that selling furniture made a difference in the world. Oh the games we play with ourselves.
I guess I was a little excited, though. It was something different, and I got to go someplace I'd never been before (Midwest holla!). Experience points are invaluable. I bought a new briefcase just for the occasion. I rented a car. I stayed one night in a dumpy motel (ugh, Red Roof Inn, where I totally found MYSTERY HAIRS in my bed). I ate shittily (did you know that even though Hardee's and Carl's Jr. are the same company, they have pretty much completely different menus?) or not at all. I paid for expenses with my corporate American Express card. I traveled wearing a suit and tie. I closed a potentially lucrative deal. And I talked to my girlfriend from the airport on my way home on my little headphone/earpiece thingy. I wouldn't mind taking a couple of trips like this a year, but I'm definitely not cut out for a life on the road where the days all blur together and I'm constantly living out of my suitcase. It ain't glamorous like in airline commercials. And I'm sure it's just a mental thing, but I don't feel clean unless I'm showering in my own shower. Is that weird?
And now, a rant.
The folks at the TSA are retarded. This isn't exactly news, I know, but I wouldn't find the whole security thing so ridiculous and frustrating if they were just consistent about it. The procedures vary from airport to airport and even from screener to screener. It's almost like, what's the point? I have always checked baggage when I've flown, but since I was only going for a day, I just packed a day bag to carry on. Now most of you are aware of my, uh, extreme vanity and the number of hair-related products I use every day, so I was careful to review the TSA's pamphlet of what was allowed prior to packing. The benefit of always checking my bags was that I could pack my entire bathroom in my suitcase and not worry about it. But if you've flown on a plane over the past couple of years, you know about the rules on bringing liquids on board a plane. I know the rules, but I have this one container of wax that's 4 ounces and therefore exceeds their seemingly arbitrary 3 ounce limit on "gels and liquids", but since wax is a solid, I thought that maybe it'd be allowed. Not so much. I tried pleading my case with the screener, "But it's WAX! Not a gel or liquid! Come on!" and he was nice enough to wave a supervisor over just to be sure, but with one look and a shake of her head, she quashed my motion and seized my illicit contraband and placed it in a bin with a heap of other confiscated items. You know, real dangerous shit like toothpaste, deodorant, bottles of Head & Shoulders... everyone knows if you outlaw mouthwash, only outlaws will have mouthwash, man. Yeah, I feel safe. Thanks, TSA!
For the record, I do have a pretty strong sense of self-awareness and shame and felt like a complete tool for holding up the security line to plead for my wax to be allowed, but as any metrosexual (read: gay) man will tell you, that shit ain't cheap. I'm fully aware that the people behind me were all silently judging me, so I couldn't bring myself to actually make eye contact with any of them... but perhaps in an alternate universe they'd actually be applauding my efforts to illuminate how asinine our country's security laws are. I'm not saying I'm Rosa Parks, not quite, but how is it that I can bring scissors and razors and knitting needles on a plane but not pomade?
But fine, rules are rules, no matter how stupid. I'd given my hair wax a 50/50 shot of getting past security, so like any good boy scout*, I packed back-up hair products that came in smaller packages just in case. Always prepared!
Here's the funny part. On my way home, the screener in St. Louis (a really sassy black lady) detained me and said that all of my liquids and gels had to fit in a 1-quart plastic bag. "Don't you know the rules?" she said. Yes, I know that's the rule and all, but they didn't enforce it in LA. I had all of that stuff in my shaving bag and they let it fly. But she wasn't budging. Since I always pack enough toiletries to cater a small beauty pageant, clearly not all of it would fit in a 1-quart bag, so I had to play a little Sophie's Choice and have her toss all the cheap, easily replaceable stuff so I could keep everything else. Whatever. TSA employees need to start wearing buttons that say "$7.50 an hour and drunk with power."
* Never actually a boy scout
Other notes:
The high temperature in St. Louis on Monday was 40 degrees. When I got in on Sunday night it was 27 degrees and windy. I know that's not even that bad, but I will never complain about LA being cold ever again. I told the guy at the car rental place, "I don't have clothes for this weather!" to which he replied, "I don't think they even make clothes for this weather." It was 50 degrees at the airport when I got home and it felt downright balmy.
Things I didn't know they had in St. Louis: Del Tacos and a Hustler Hollywood store.
Thing I noticed that should not have been all that surprising: People really, really love their Cardinals.
Thing I wish I'd done: Hung out withfoxy_manacle's parents. At least then I could've gotten the authentic Italian meal I was craving all week.
...
I'm back on a plane Friday night to go to Jacksonville (via San Francisco and Dallas) for Lindsey's mom's memorial service. In all this year will have seen me take three trips to Jacksonville, two trips to North Carolina, and one trip each to St. Louis and Atlanta... I have been on more planes this year than any other, BY FAR. Whew.
I traveled to St. Louis the other day on business and for 23 hours I played the role of a consummate businessman. In my head I kept trying to hype up what I was doing to make it seem more important and exciting than it really was. Like I was somehow an integral cog in the wheels of commerce, a mover and/or shaker for a Fortune 500 company, that selling furniture made a difference in the world. Oh the games we play with ourselves.
I guess I was a little excited, though. It was something different, and I got to go someplace I'd never been before (Midwest holla!). Experience points are invaluable. I bought a new briefcase just for the occasion. I rented a car. I stayed one night in a dumpy motel (ugh, Red Roof Inn, where I totally found MYSTERY HAIRS in my bed). I ate shittily (did you know that even though Hardee's and Carl's Jr. are the same company, they have pretty much completely different menus?) or not at all. I paid for expenses with my corporate American Express card. I traveled wearing a suit and tie. I closed a potentially lucrative deal. And I talked to my girlfriend from the airport on my way home on my little headphone/earpiece thingy. I wouldn't mind taking a couple of trips like this a year, but I'm definitely not cut out for a life on the road where the days all blur together and I'm constantly living out of my suitcase. It ain't glamorous like in airline commercials. And I'm sure it's just a mental thing, but I don't feel clean unless I'm showering in my own shower. Is that weird?
And now, a rant.
The folks at the TSA are retarded. This isn't exactly news, I know, but I wouldn't find the whole security thing so ridiculous and frustrating if they were just consistent about it. The procedures vary from airport to airport and even from screener to screener. It's almost like, what's the point? I have always checked baggage when I've flown, but since I was only going for a day, I just packed a day bag to carry on. Now most of you are aware of my, uh, extreme vanity and the number of hair-related products I use every day, so I was careful to review the TSA's pamphlet of what was allowed prior to packing. The benefit of always checking my bags was that I could pack my entire bathroom in my suitcase and not worry about it. But if you've flown on a plane over the past couple of years, you know about the rules on bringing liquids on board a plane. I know the rules, but I have this one container of wax that's 4 ounces and therefore exceeds their seemingly arbitrary 3 ounce limit on "gels and liquids", but since wax is a solid, I thought that maybe it'd be allowed. Not so much. I tried pleading my case with the screener, "But it's WAX! Not a gel or liquid! Come on!" and he was nice enough to wave a supervisor over just to be sure, but with one look and a shake of her head, she quashed my motion and seized my illicit contraband and placed it in a bin with a heap of other confiscated items. You know, real dangerous shit like toothpaste, deodorant, bottles of Head & Shoulders... everyone knows if you outlaw mouthwash, only outlaws will have mouthwash, man. Yeah, I feel safe. Thanks, TSA!
For the record, I do have a pretty strong sense of self-awareness and shame and felt like a complete tool for holding up the security line to plead for my wax to be allowed, but as any metrosexual (read: gay) man will tell you, that shit ain't cheap. I'm fully aware that the people behind me were all silently judging me, so I couldn't bring myself to actually make eye contact with any of them... but perhaps in an alternate universe they'd actually be applauding my efforts to illuminate how asinine our country's security laws are. I'm not saying I'm Rosa Parks, not quite, but how is it that I can bring scissors and razors and knitting needles on a plane but not pomade?
But fine, rules are rules, no matter how stupid. I'd given my hair wax a 50/50 shot of getting past security, so like any good boy scout*, I packed back-up hair products that came in smaller packages just in case. Always prepared!
Here's the funny part. On my way home, the screener in St. Louis (a really sassy black lady) detained me and said that all of my liquids and gels had to fit in a 1-quart plastic bag. "Don't you know the rules?" she said. Yes, I know that's the rule and all, but they didn't enforce it in LA. I had all of that stuff in my shaving bag and they let it fly. But she wasn't budging. Since I always pack enough toiletries to cater a small beauty pageant, clearly not all of it would fit in a 1-quart bag, so I had to play a little Sophie's Choice and have her toss all the cheap, easily replaceable stuff so I could keep everything else. Whatever. TSA employees need to start wearing buttons that say "$7.50 an hour and drunk with power."
* Never actually a boy scout
Other notes:
The high temperature in St. Louis on Monday was 40 degrees. When I got in on Sunday night it was 27 degrees and windy. I know that's not even that bad, but I will never complain about LA being cold ever again. I told the guy at the car rental place, "I don't have clothes for this weather!" to which he replied, "I don't think they even make clothes for this weather." It was 50 degrees at the airport when I got home and it felt downright balmy.
Things I didn't know they had in St. Louis: Del Tacos and a Hustler Hollywood store.
Thing I noticed that should not have been all that surprising: People really, really love their Cardinals.
Thing I wish I'd done: Hung out with
foxy_manacle's parents. At least then I could've gotten the authentic Italian meal I was craving all week....
I'm back on a plane Friday night to go to Jacksonville (via San Francisco and Dallas) for Lindsey's mom's memorial service. In all this year will have seen me take three trips to Jacksonville, two trips to North Carolina, and one trip each to St. Louis and Atlanta... I have been on more planes this year than any other, BY FAR. Whew.
