Terrorism In Sandals

, , , , | Friendly | August 27, 2018

(I have to change flights at short notice as a meeting ran on longer than expected, so instead of the Romanian national airline I have to use the substandard British one. I discover I am sharing the plane with a tour party of elderly — even older than me — compatriots of mine who are highly prone to complaining. After standing in line for an age to check in my luggage, and then for another age to get through security, I then find myself in another line for the passport check. This is no big deal. It’s what you expect when flying out of Bucharest; you have to allow plenty of time. The two old women behind me in the queue are getting tetchy and impatient.)

Old Woman: “I wish they’d hurry up. This is intolerable.”

Me: “Oh, I don’t know; it’s moving pretty smoothly today. It can take far longer than this.”

(She looks me up and down with a sneer on her face, taking in my open sandals, army-style combat jacket, and Comrade Corbyn hat.)

Old Woman: *in a loud voice* “Well, if only you didn’t dress as a terrorist, maybe the line would move faster!”

Me: “Thank you for that. A bit louder next time; they may not have heard you in Hungary.”

Late For A Date With A Plane

, , , , , , | Legal | August 21, 2018

(This happens way before 9/11, back in a time where airport security is only SLIGHTLY more lax. My brother is leaving for a week-long trip. Rather than pay parking fees, I agree to go with him to the airport, drive the car back to my place, and pick him up when he gets back. My brother has never been great with timing, though, and we are getting to the airport with minutes to spare. Of course, he also pulls into the through-traffic lane, instead of the drop-off lane. Note that there’s the double-yellow “do not pass” lines on the road, as well as periodic reflectors, making it obvious to all.)

Me: “Ah, crap. I told you we needed to take the right ramp!”

Brother: “Hang on.”

Me: “Wha-AAH!”

(And just like that he yanks the wheel to the right, cutting straight across the lane, cutting someone else off, and literally screeching the brakes as he pulls into a spot. I’m basically plastered across the back of my seat and the door out of shock.)

Me: “DUDE, WHAT WAS THAT?!”

Brother: “I can’t miss the flight!”

(He proceeds to jump out of the car without even turning it off, and ignores the POLICE OFFICER that has rushed up.)

Cop: “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?”

Brother: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m late! I can’t miss this flight!”

Cop: “Do you have any idea what you just did!?”

Brother: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! I never do that, but I’m late!”

Cop: *pointing to me as I’m getting out of the car* “AND YOU! Why did you let him do that?!”

Me: *doing a double-take at him* “Well, he didn’t exactly CONSULT ME ON IT!”

(Thankfully, the officer turned all his attention to my brother, so I was able to get in and leave. Apparently, my brother was yelled at all the way through the bag check and into the airport itself; I have no idea how he didn’t end up getting a ticket or other fine. I also made him promise that any time we went anywhere, I’d drive!)

God Is A Meany

, , , , | Right | August 20, 2018

(My mom and I are taking a trip together and have a layover at a large airport in Texas. We learn upon landing that there have been some severe storms in the area and all flights are delayed. We don’t mind, since we are early, anyway, and we tend to be pretty laid back about that kind of thing, especially when it’s something beyond the airport’s control. We are waiting in the seats by the service desk just in case our flight time changes again. A 25-ish year old woman in a suit two-times too small for her comes running up, pulling her suitcase so fast that it’s bounced off the wheels and is dragging on its side. My mom and I watch the whole thing go down.)

Woman: “I was just told my flight is delayed! Why is my flight delayed?!”

Agent: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there are severe thunderstorms moving through the area, and for the safety of our passengers we have delayed all flight times out of [Airport].”

Woman: “But… but…” *immediately drops her suitcase and starts BAWLING at the customer service counter* “But I need to catch this flight!”

Agent: *temporarily shocked* “I do apologize, ma’am, but it’s really out of our control at the moment. We’ll be happy to reimburse your ticket.”

Woman: “No! NO! I can’t miss this flight! Why are you doing this? Why are you being so mean?

Agent: “I’m sorry, what?”

Woman: “You’re being mean!”

(She is crying so hard now, my mom is afraid she is going to pass out, and tells me to be ready to call for medical help.)

Woman: “WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN TO ME?!”

Agent: “Ma’am, I promise that we are not being mean to you; we are concerned for your safety.”

Woman: “WHY?! Why did you change my flight?!”

Agent: *starting to look worried too* “Because of the storms, ma’am.”

Woman: “That’s so mean! Why are there storms right now?!

Agent: “Um… act of God?”

(The agent handled herself really well, considering. This went on for nearly 15 minutes before a manager and a security guard came to escort the woman to a place where she could calm down. The storms passed through pretty quickly, and most of the flights were back up and running within an hour. My mom and I were even bumped up to first class since we were willing to wait longer than some of the other passengers!)

The Line Is Shorter Than Their Temper

, , , | Friendly | August 14, 2018

(Most of this conversation happens in German. I am at an airport. After the security check, my husband and I are waiting in a check-in line. In front of us there are a huge youth group and a couple waiting. Behind us are one group with mostly elderly people, individual families, and a lot of other people. Suddenly, an elderly lady appears and starts to talk to the couple in front of us. She clearly cuts the line in front of us but we don’t say anything. The check-in is very slow and after one hour or so, only half of the youth group is checked in. Suddenly, they open another counter and the couple, the elderly lady, and some people from behind us go to it. We decide to stay in our line. After waiting another 45 minutes, it is almost our turn to check in. Suddenly, from the side, an older guy appears and starts to shout:)

Older Man: “Go back! You just cut the line. It is very rude! How uneducated are you?!”

Me: “I am sorry, but we have been waiting here already for almost two hours. We arrived in front of you.”

Older Man: “Don’t lie! Go to the end of the line!”

Me: “Why should we?!”

(Suddenly, the tour guide of the group appears:)

Tour Guide: “Go back to the end of the line! It is extremely rude to cut the line! We are a group; we need to check in together!”

Me: “As I said, we waited her almost two hours. A couple from your group was in front of us. An elderly lady cut the line but then they went to an other counter… and why I should lie about it?!”

(The guide doesn’t say anything and walks away. That makes the older guy even more angry, and he starts to rant about it with his fellows.)

Older Man: “They are just doing it to get a window seat!”

Me: “Don’t worry about your precious window seat. I checked in online yesterday and already chose our seats!”

(Finally, he calms down. Our plane has to do a stop over in another country. We have to get off the plane and do a security check before waiting in the transit hall. This time, the rude group is in front of us. Suddenly, a policewoman says in Russian:)

Policewoman: “Please, use the other line, too!”

(I say to the group in German:)

Me: “The lady just said you can use the other line, too.”

(The group just looks angrily at me and ignores it. The policewoman comes to me and my husband and says, in English this time:)

Policewoman: “Please, use the other line, too. No need to wait here. It is very hot.”

(Of course, we follow her request and go to the other line. I can only hear that guy angrily exclaim:)

Older Man: “See?! Now they cut the line again!”

How On God’s Green Earth?

, , , , , , | Right | August 11, 2018

(I work at an organic fast food walk-up counter at the airport; we don’t really have time to waste with any single customer. Working at an organic restaurant that serves vegetarian, vegan, and gluten-free options, you have to learn all about what goes in the food, so I am pretty well-informed. A man walks up with his young daughter. We don’t have a kids’ menu, but we have some soups that people usually get for their kids.)

Me: “Thank you for coming to [Fast Food Place]! What can I do for you?”

Customer: “Hi. We had a question about the green chicken chili.”

Me: “Absolutely, what would you like to know?”

Customer: “What makes the green chicken chili green?”

Me: “The green chili peppers.”

Customer: *exasperated* “Okay, but what makes those green?”

Me: “Uh… pigment?”

(He looked kind of abashed, but they ended up getting the chili, nonetheless)

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