I’m sitting in here in the O’Hare airport, on my way to SheSpeaks, pausing for a moment of thankfulness that I have no sense of direction. If I did, I might be a little stressed out that I’m heading from Oklahoma to North Carolina via Chicago. My husband, who has a compass embedded somewhere in his brain, would be having a stroke right now.
I’ve told you how I feel about flying. You might think I’d be getting more comfortable with it, since I’ve done a good bit of it lately. Instead, I’m just assuming I’ve significantly raised my odds of crashing in a fiery deathtrap.
But other than that, I’m doing fine.
Am I the only one who feels very self-conscious when flying? Like I should be trying very hard, in every way, NOT to look like a terrorist? I arrived in my home terminal this morning carrying my perfume in my hand, after forgetting it and grabbing it on the way out the door. Just before I checked in, I opened up my luggage to get the perfume packed securely. But as I sat there in the terminal with my (open) bags around me, a bottle of liquid in my hand, I felt like making an announcement to bystanders:
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS A BOTTLE OF LIZ CLAIBORNE PERFUME FROM TJ MAXX. IT IS IN NO WAY FLAMMABLE OR TOXIC OR OTHERWISE EXPLOSIVE, AND GOD BLESS AMERICA."
With national security on my mind, I finished checking in and proceeded on through the security checkpoint. The man in front of me did not have his boarding pass. The screener, a sweet girl of about 21, giggled and said, "Well, I’ll forgive you this time, but next time you’ll have to pay me off with chocolate."
AND THEN SHE WAVED HIM ON THROUGH.
And there you have it, folks. The security of an entire nation can be bought with a bag of Hershey’s kisses.
(Though I will confess that there are certain days of the month when I think that is a perfectly reasonable price to pay.)
I thought about drop-kicking the guy–it’s my patriotic duty, after all–but then I remembered that I don’t know how to drop-kick. And also that it might be inappropriate to be arrested on my way to a conference sponsored by a group called Proverbs 31 Ministries.
Last thing, and this has nothing to do with anything, except that it was hilarious–when I boarded the plane back in Oklahoma, I sat in front of a guy who was…well, he appeared to be a first-time flyer. Sometimes you can just tell. He wore a giant ball cap and an even bigger belt buckle and he chatted cheerfully (nervously?) with everyone around him. He was positively delightful.
We taxied down the runway, sped up, and at the precise moment of lift-off–I’M NOT KIDDING YOU–the guy went, "Wheeee, Doggie."
It was adorable.
I love Oklahoma.
Barring any techincal difficulties, I’ll check in from North Carolina with a report about the fantastic stuff I’m learning. See you then!