My bag gets flagged at the airport, and the woman at security is going through it.

Security: “What are all these bottles?”

Me: “Oh! They’re my art supplies. I paint when I’m on vacation, and… Oh, no. I forgot about the rule preventing liquids in carry-on luggage.”

Security: “What flight are you on?”

I tell her, and I mention that I am running late.

Security: “You’re not going to have enough time to get these checked in.”

I was obviously very upset, but what can you do? It was my fault, so I gave up all my painting supplies. She asked to see my boarding pass to “make a note” and asked for my return flight details as I handed the supplies over. 

When I returned a week later, she was in the baggage area with my paints. Not only had she kept them for me, but she’d looked up my return date and time in order to meet me!

I’m working in an airport. A man is traveling to Greece with his daughter, who must be twelve or thirteen years old. He comes rushing to the boarding gate.

Man: “Hey, we lost my daughter’s ID card. Can you make an announcement?”

Me: “Sir, this is an airport. We can’t randomly make announcements asking if anyone has seen your travel documents. That would be like making an announcement at the mall asking if anyone has found $200 on the floor.”

When he persists, I remind him that you cannot travel if you don’t have your documents with you.

Man: “Are you kidding me? She is a child!”

We politely explain again that we cannot do that and they should go look for the ID card while they still have time. We suggest that they contact Passport Control, as there are staff looking around, cleaning, and monitoring everything twenty-four-seven, and that if anything is found unattended, it immediately goes to the police.

The guy starts yelling and calling us ridiculous.

He leaves angrily, leaving the girl on her own, unattended at a gate full of strangers — probably assuming we will look after her WHILE WE WORK.

Ten minutes later, he comes back.

Man: *Demanding* “I need you to make an announcement about my daughter’s ID card!”

We explain AGAIN that this is not possible for security reasons.

At this point, boarding has started, so I have this jerk yelling at me for not helping him find his daughter’s ID card — which HE lost — while I am checking other people’s travel documents and trying to contact the aircraft via radio. We cannot listen to what the aircraft is asking for because this dude keeps asking us for something when we’ve already told him what he should do about it.

Eventually, the man goes to look for the ID card again. He OBVIOUSLY doesn’t go to Passport Control and just comes back at the end of the boarding. We tell him that without an ID card, the girl cannot travel; thus, we will escort them back to the public area to book a new ticket. The man’s daughter is crying and sobbing at this point.

Man: *To his daughter, yelling* “Why are you crying?! Let’s go!”

He grabs her hand and starts to storm away.

Me: “Sir, stop! You have to be escorted outside!”

His very mature response is something along the lines of:

Man: “F*** off before you piss me off, too.”

They go to Passport Control to try and get out themselves. They can’t because they need to be escorted. The girl’s ID card was there — surprise!

The man running comes back.

Man: “We found it!”

Me: *Passively* “The doors are closed; it’s too late to board now. Wait here for one of my colleagues to escort you outside.”

I left them there and walked away, as did my supervisor.

I love how this dad not only lost his kid’s travel document, yelled at her for it, demanded we take action for him, and refused to follow whatever we suggested to help — we couldn’t leave the area for security reasons — but then when we explained what he had to do, he took off, and then came back expecting us to just do him a service and help him.

Some people shouldn’t be parents. I felt so sorry for that girl.

I have lots of stories from when I worked for an airline, but this one actually happened before then.

My daughter was fifteen in the late 1990s. She was very into playing soccer, and she was pretty good. So, one summer, she wanted to go to soccer camp in Florida, which was about 1,000 miles away. The price wasn’t bad for the week-long camp, and the airfare to get her there was pretty reasonable, so we paid for the camp and the airfare, and we arranged for the camp to pick her up and transport her from the Florida airport to the camp.

We took [Daughter] to the airport and checked her in at the desk. The agent saw that she was just fifteen and asked if we would like an airline worker to meet her in Philadelphia (where she had to change planes) and make sure she got to the correct gate. After asking [Daughter], we agreed this was a great idea. We took her to the gate (you could still do that back then), waved goodbye, and headed home.

Several hours later, we got a phone call from [Daughter].

Daughter: “I’m in Florida, but there was a mix-up in Philadelphia, so I got here two hours late and missed my transportation to [Camp].”

We panicked and called the camp and the airline — their fault this happened — and tried to figure out what else we could do.

Finally, [Daughter] called again.

Daughter: “I found a cab to take me to [Camp], and I have just enough money with me to pay for it, but I’ll need more money for the rest of the week.”

Us: “Okay. Take the cab, and we’ll send you some more money by [Shipping Company].”

She made it to the camp okay and had a good time.

Now for the fun airline part. As soon as [Daughter] called us from the airport, I got on the phone with the airline to complain. [Daughter] told us that no one met her in Philly, but she found her own way to the gate anyway. She heard her flight called and went to board, but the gate agent told her that it wasn’t her flight and her next flight was the next one. She took the agent’s word and went and sat back down to wait.

After a couple of hours, another flight was called. [Daughter] went to the gate and was allowed on. After boarding, it was announced that the plane was going to Puerto Rico — no mention of Florida. She asked a flight attendant, who confirmed that they weren’t going to Florida, so [Daughter] got back off the plane. She managed to get a new flight, but it was a couple of hours later, of course. That’s why she was so late to get her transport.

On the phone, I started loudly complaining about what had happened, and I asked the airline to refund everything. They absolutely refused, despite numerous phone calls and escalations. (These days, I probably would have sued, but I wasn’t the type to threaten that back then.)

In frustration, I finally asked for something that seemed very reasonable. On [Daughter]’s return trip, she was due to change planes at NYC’s LaGuardia airport. I asked if it was possible for her to get off and have her luggage taken off, as well, and we would pick her up there instead of her original destination. They said she could get off at LaGuardia, but her luggage would continue on. I spent more time trying to get them to change their mind, and I sent a lot of complaint letters, but nothing was ever done for us.

Fortunately, [Daughter]’s return went smoothly, and she had no trouble changing planes this time. When we met her flight, we were all relieved.

Lesson learned, though, about letting even fifteen-year-olds fly alone.

I recently read this story, and I’ve had this exact thing happen to me.

I went to the airport to pick someone up, and I pulled up to the designated pickup spot. I saw the person I was picking up walking toward me, and I got out to help them load their luggage.

Someone the airport had hired — not even an actual officer — came up to berate me.

Employee: “You cannot park here! This area is only for loading and unloading!”

Me: “I’m trying to load — if you would just get out of the way.”

She continued to stand blocking the passenger door so the person I was picking up couldn’t get in as I was loading her luggage in the trunk. Finally:

Me: “Ma’am, I would’ve already been gone if you just hadn’t said anything at all.”

I stepped up to order her away from my car, and she backed up a few paces. My passenger was able to get in as the parking jerk went to go find an actual officer, and we drove away.

Related:
Glad He’s Doing This And Not Flying A Plane

A customer is signing out a car he has rented from our site at the airport. As he is signing the insurance paperwork, I feel I have to mention something. Normally, I wouldn’t, but since it’s a Saint Patrick’s Day weekend, our town is known for partying, and the customer is wearing a big green “Kiss me! I’m Irish!” shirt, I feel compelled to.

Me: “Sir, just to let you know, the insurance is void if any damage comes to the car while you’ve got any trace of alcohol in your system — and I do mean ‘any’. Some people think you need to be intoxicated, but the insurance paperwork makes it quite clear that you can’t have any in your system at all.”

Customer: *Not looking up, still signing forms* “Okay, so, just the one whiskey, then.”

Me: “Sir, obviously you can drink what you want, but I just need to let you know that if you do drink and drive, the insurance no longer covers you.”

Customer: *Still not looking up* “Okay, so, no whiskey, then, just a couple of shots.”

Is he toying with me?

Me: “I’m afraid that will still count, sir.”

Customer: *Handing over all the signed forms* “Fine, just some beers, then.”

Me: “Have a good weekend, sir.”

Customer: “I will have a good weekend because, unlike most of the fake posers in this city, I actually am descended from Irish immigrants. I can handle my liquor! It’s in my blood!”

Me: “Which is exactly the thing that would invalidate the insurance. Please have a safe and responsible weekend!”

Customer: “You wouldn’t know; you’re Black. You guys can’t hold down your liquor like you can’t hold down jobs.”

Me: “Okay… that was uncalled for. Your car is in bay forty-one. Goodbye.”

The customer smirked and rushed off.

Guess who came back on Monday looking terrible and smelling of booze? And guess who had scratched the car on the side so badly that it actually looked like it had been done on purpose? And guess who couldn’t get us to cover the insurance on it because they seemed so intoxicated we actually had to call the police because we’d no doubt just witnessed an obvious DUI?

And guess who said, “I guess I’m holding down my job better than you’re holding down your liquor,” as they were told just how expensive the repair bill was likely to be?