Ok. So all the grams of powdery substance I had lodged in every nook and cranny of my carry-on didn't go over well in Security. In fact, they searched through the case in great depth. Then, unsatisfied, they ran the case through the scanner two more times! I was asked about the packets of stuff. I told one lady, "It's a damn diet my Doc's got me on. So much for new years resolutions, eh? Just trying to get healthy." Her response, "Ain't nuttin but a pain." Then she let me go.
Once I'm finally at the gate (which was boarding time due to all my quality time in Security), I had to check the damn thing anyway. They now have an extra small box that carry-on passengers are suppose to use to verify their bags aren't too big. It's literally about half the size of the overhead. The lady in front of me pitched an actual fit and I didn't want to contribute to the nonsense at that point. So, I said... "No problem." And, gave them my credit card for the baggage fee. As I walked past the bitter woman to board the plane, she was opening her case again and rearranging in hopes she could make the oversize rectangular case fit in the miniature luggage display box. She was slamming the attendant the whole time. I want to see my bag again. So, I was fine with being nice. However, when I walked onto the plane and realized how much larger the bins are than that box, I did feel taken. Oh well. what can you do?
By the way, I'm blogging from the plane... in flight. Pretty cool!
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