I boarded a plane today. It was delayed because of snow. The man next to me had apparently never been to New England in spring. "Snow in April!" He kept saying. "Can you believe it!? Does this happen often?" "It's actually not that big a deal, sir." Then later, the plane landed in D.C., and now the concept of snow is so foreign that my mind simply cannot imagine it, have no grasp of what it might look or feel like, not on such a clear and comfortable evening such as this. It's dry here, too. Incredibly dry.
I haven't flown in about 8 months and since that time, I had adjusted to life with civil liberties and forgotten what it was like to constantly have everything packed, hand over my documents in obedience to whoever that asked, and worry about following the rules of the airport. Which is exactly why I got my hair gel, face wash, toothpaste, lip shimmer, and travel shampoo that I didn't even know I still had, all taken away from me and tossed in the trash. We are at war, people. The security alert status is on Orange. Liquids and creams are still banned in carry-ons. I had forgotten about that. And the checking people, they just asked me if I had liquids. I handed them my water bottle and kept moving. Moved through quite a few checkers until at last, my bag was pulled out because it looked fishy. The lady showed me all my contraband and told me that I could keep the little ones if I have a ziploc bag. Do I have one?
No. Apparently, they had given them out. But she wasn't about to give me one.
"Do you want me to throw these away?" She asked.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No. Have a nice day."
And there went my nice day.
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