Fly The Friendly Skies

I decided that every day the trip is an opportunity for humor. My recent travel experiences could be just what one needs to revive its aging comic career.

It began with the arrival at the airport, where no one was in communication with each other. The guy at the door tells me I can not check in with him because I missed the ticket, so he sends to line 3. Line 3 tells me I can not go because it is only for international passengers. He tells me that the guy on the sidewalk would run. I explained that I was not going back to the door, so he proceeds to show me a phone that will do just as well. This was pretty simple, but obviously the other woman asks me why I'm talking to you, and I answer: "Because someone told me." Replied, "There was no need to do."

Having checked in, my 11 year old son and I were identified by TSA as potential terrorists, but to do the pat down and wand between her legs routine before God and everyone in Tampa. They tried to explain to me that there have been identified by chance and I laughed. Then he said: "Well, not if." I laughed louder, and he said, "Okay, you guys meet the required profile. I laughed harder thinking about my son in a Hawaiian shirt and my Thai silk shirt and what characters are menacing.

In fact, we fit the profile and Have been chosen for special treatment for almost every domestic flight I can remember in the U.S. for the past four years. Some of the known variables: the foreign postal address, tickets purchased abroad for a domestic flight tickets are not associated with an international flight, one-way tickets and over-discounted.

Upon his arrival in Atlanta, we were greeted with the reality that a bag arrived, and a bag no. It so happens that the bag did not arrive was my son who had all the clothes we had just bought new school during a family visit. My purse would not be nearly as devastating, because I can pick all my stuff quickly from online stores and the like. Stock reflects the child 15 hours of shopping and family very uncomfortable. God knows I did not want to go through that again.

I spoke with three different names Dave, Jim and Peter in Bombay, India I promised that I would see again the bag (real names? What they tell me.). They were wrong. It finally appeared 36 hours after it was lost. He was in Dallas, sat down at the airport in Atlanta for at least 15 hours, and finally aboard a delayed flight to Dothan, Alabama. My son goes to school with new clothes and I kept my sense of humor.