Tag Archives: TSA

Assert yourself. Get aggressive.

Sometimes you’ve got to really assert yourself, you’ve got to get really aggressive. Like when you’re on line at the post office, and it’s one of those lines that’s just snaking all the way around the poles, those fabric strips that come out of the poles, is there a name for those things? Line formers? Am I making myself clear here? They use them at airports. Like you’ll be waiting forever to give your passport to the ticket lady so she can take your baggage. But maneuvering around those line formers, with all of your suitcases, and your luggage. Is there a protocol? What’s the protocol? What’s the protocol for when you’re on one of those lines, it’s moving so slowly, and maybe you’re having some trouble getting your two rolling suitcases around the corner, and there’s a guy right behind you, he’s only got a carry-on, and so when you both round the corner, all of the sudden this guy’s standing not behind you, but next to you, and he’s creeping up. Now there’s another turn coming up. Does this guy think he’s going to weasel his way ahead? Just because he’s only got one small bag? And to be perfectly honest, the bag looks a little big, like he probably should be checking it in. And you know you’re going to get on the plane and of course this guy’s going to be sitting right in front of you, and his oversized carry-on, it’s going to take up way too much space in the overhead compartment.

But assert yourself. Get aggressive. At least passive aggressive. As you go to round that second corner, maybe try to block him with one of your rolling bags. Maybe knock over one of the line formers, try to make it look like he knocked it over, and when the airline representative comes over, she’s not saying anything yet, just kind of walking over as a result of the line former falling down, the fabric’s stretching, compromising the integrity of not just this pole, but potentially the entire zigzagged line. And right as she’s about to say something like, “What’s going on here?” you point to that guy, Mr. I’m-Such-A-Great-Packer-I-Don’t-Have-To-Respect-My-Fellow-Line-Waiters, and you say, “He did it.” Watch. That guy’s going to be taking a special trip to the TSA security office.

That guy’s in trouble. That guy might end up on some sort of a problem list. But what about all of these little kids? If you had little kids, you might think to yourself, this would be a lot easier. It might seem harder, having to navigate them plus your luggage plus your kids’ luggage. Think about it, kids are always knocking over those line formers. Or they’re pulling out the fabric. Or they’re jumping under the fabric, back and forth, knocking somebody else’s luggage into a line former, a TSA guy shows up, “I’m sorry sir, you’re going to have to come with us,” every mess these kids make, whoever they bump into, it’s like, “Did you just get knocked into by some kid? Yeah, you’re going to have to come with us.” And then finally after you’ve fended off the carry-on guy – you were very assertive! – you still can’t get your kids to sit still, to just stop running around and wait in line, please. So they stand quiet, for a minute, because you yelled at them, but every time they get to a new line former they silently unclip the fabric and it zips all the way back into the pole. And then you have to try to fix it. And that’s when the airline representative is going to turn on you. It’s unavoidable.

But wasn’t I talking about the post office? It’s all very similar, just no TSA. And I don’t know how your post office is laid out, but at mine there used to be this shortcut line, like if you were just picking up a package, you didn’t have to wait on the general line. But they’ve since done away with that, and now everybody waits. So you’ll be waiting for ten, fifteen, forty-five minutes when you see somebody just head right over to the last window, like pretending that they didn’t know the express line has since been eliminated, and nobody’s saying anything, not a clerk, no other line waiters.

You’ve got to get aggressive. You’ve got to assert yourself into the situation, tell that guy, “Listen buddy, back of the line, all right?” to which he might just kind of look at you, not responding but thinking to himself, “Why don’t you just mind your own business, all right?” So then you repeat yourself. And maybe there’s a postal police officer there, it doesn’t always happen, but they make rounds to the branches every now and then, and he might come over and be like, “What’s the problem?” so you can say something like, “No, I was just asking this guy where he gets his fireworks shipped in from,” and the postal police guy won’t even say anything, he’ll just look at the line cutter and point to that door in the corner, like let’s go have a little chat in that office over there, OK?

Snacks, pants, fruit roll-ups

I need to get a snack. I’m starving here. Breakfast didn’t cut it this morning. And I ate it at eleven, so I can’t justifiably go out for lunch already. Maybe I’ll have lunch at like three, three-thirty. Dinner? Close to eleven. I’ve got to start getting breakfast ready a little earlier. Lately I’ve been getting into this bad habit of going to the deli and buying those giant black-and-white cookies as a snack. Sometimes like twice a day. That amount of sugar can’t be good, for anybody, I don’t care how much running around I do to try and justify that much snacking. Also, it can add up to be an expensive habit. Cookies. Sugar. Eggs. Black and white frosting. Three fifty please. Here you go sir. See you in five minutes.

I need to iron my pants. Whenever I’m done with work I always just put them in my backpack and change into my jeans. Fine, but then I leave them in there, all night, overnight, and then I’m running late for work the next day, I just grab my backpack, I haven’t even touched it since I threw it on the ground when I walked in. That’s OK. I mean, it’s not great, not ideal, but it’s all right. I have this patented method of putting my clothes in my backpack. Instead of folding my clothes, I stretch them out slightly and then roll them up. That way I just unroll them the next day, in case I forget to unpack everything when I get home, which I always do, another bad habit, just like the bad eleven o’clock breakfast habit. By the way, it’s not really patented, the roll up method, or maybe it is, I don’t know, but it’s not patented by me. I just always say it’s patented, like I invented it, because at least one person is going to be like, “You didn’t invent that!” and then I’m like, in my head, bingo. And I get into a whole fake argument with this person about how, yes, I did invent it, how they must have heard about it from me.

I need to stop making up stories, running my mouth, talking about total nonsense with random people, drawing people into fake arguments about the Rob G. patented roll-up method for folding your clothes. There’s always that moment like three quarters of the way into one of these fights, when voices start to rise in volume slightly, and the corners of my mouth start to similarly rise, like I can’t fake it anymore, like it’s now obvious that I’m just talking for the sake of talking, wasting everybody else’s time.

I need to clarify, however, that even if I haven’t necessarily invented the roll-up method, I’ve definitely made it my own, incorporated it into my life to such a degree that, if these kind of things were to be measured, I’d easily be one of the top ten, top five even, on a list of people that most exemplify, or most take advantage of this roll up folding. I’m not kidding. Like I can pack for a whole week’s vacation in a tiny duffel bag. The trick is to roll up everything, underwear, socks – individual socks rolled up individually – all of those small things that you’d normally not even bother to fold up at all, “They’re so small. Why fold them up? They barely take up any space at all.” Because all of that little space adds up. The only thing is, if you’re flying, I’ve often time run into the problem of, because I’ve packed so efficiently, utilized basically every available square inch of space, my luggage winds up weighing in much heavier than most other travelers’. And so, one, TSA might get suspicious, “What do you have in there?” and they’ll insist on going through everything, unrolling everything, “Why is everything rolled up like this?” and then, I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist, I’ll say something like, “Oh that? It’s the Rob G. patented innovative roll-up method for packing,” and maybe a group of TSA agents will have formed, most of them kind of bored, wishing they didn’t have to look through everyone’s luggage, but one of them take the bait, might be like, “Are you kidding me? You didn’t invent that,” and I’ll be like, Yahtzee, in my head anyway, going through the whole non-argument, and then having to reroll everything, every sock, every shirt, all while I’m just trying to get through security, make it to my gate in time, I had such a late start, too late a breakfast, and why did I stop for a cookie on the way in, and, two, (remember I said “one” earlier? This is two) you have this densely packed duffel bag, what if it winds up weighing more than the fifty pounds the airline allows each traveler to include with the price of their ticket? It’s not unreasonable to imagine a heavy bag, an even heavier heavy bag surcharge.

I need to start packing smarter for my vacations. I’ve become so accustomed to rolling everything up, to fitting everything into such a small space, to being able take everything with me, that it’s too much, packing takes forever. I wind up with too many clothes for what’s supposed to be a relaxing getaway. Note to self: next time, less clothes. Maybe regularly folded clothes. Maybe. Probably not. Just less clothes. Or a smaller duffel bag? Note to self within note to self: look up prices on smallish duffel bags.

I still need a snack. I should really get some fruit. Something healthy, some calories. Fruit roll-ups? No, regular fruit. I need to get off this roll-up thing.