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Royal Flush

I am on a plane to San Francisco. Right now. When it was my turn at JFK airport security this morning, I handed the TSA agent my new horrible license (see picture) and a sheet of sudoku puzzles. I know, he was also confused. He looked at both sides of the paper, then asked, “Miss, do you have a boarding pass?” I looked down at the sheet – uh, I guess not. Usually, I print puzzles WITH my boarding pass, but apparently today I only printed puzzles because I live in Candyland.

This scene reminded me of a travel mis-adventure a couple years ago.

In 2010, I fell prey to my addiction for frequent flier miles. That year, I flew about three times a week. I logged in daily and sometime twice a day just to see when I’d get my next fix – and how many miles I would earn. When racking up flown miles wasn’t enough, I supplemented with credit cards and special promos. I needed platinum status on my flights worse than Diane Sawyer needed pills in the news room.

During this phase I was at LGA airport, dressed that horrible way we did then I still do. I wore skinny jeans tucked into ankle booties like pencils sitting in their stupid pencil holders. After coming through security I stuffed the 8×11 boarding pass, another 8×11 of puzzles, and my drivers license in the back pocket of jeans that didn’t even have enough space for a chap stick.

After I got to the gate, I went to the toilets. The moment I de-pantsed I realized that my documentation had just fallen into the bowl. I spun around right in time to activate the auto-flush and watch my government issued ID and boarding pass spiral away from me. I needed to do some reconnaissance asap. The first piece I replaced with a visit to the boarding gate desk. The second would require a trip to the DMW, or my equivalent of Cheers. I mis-place my license often enough they save a spot for me in line – Norm!

I got on the plane and did what I always do when I need unconditional positive regard – called my best friend and/or mom.

Me: Hey, remember that time you went to the airport and your license was expired so they did something special for you?

BFF: If by “something special” you mean “sent me home and told me to come back the next day with my passport,” then yes, I remember that.

Me: Oh, well, you see, I just flushed my license down the toilet, and-

BFF: Why?

Me: Not on purpose, it was an accident. I’m worried about getting on a fight back.

BFF: Well, you shouldn’t get on that flight.

Me: Yeah. The thing is I’m already on the plane.

BFF: Well, you should get off that plane.

Me: I don’t know. I’m thinking this is one of those “cross that bridge” when I come to it kind of problems.

BFF: No, it isn’t. You need to get off that plane.

I wasn’t getting the kind of positive regard I needed, plus I was starting to get weird looks from the other passengers.

Me: Ok. I’ll talk to you later.

BFF: No – seriously –

Me: Bye! [click]

Alright, next up.

Me: Hi Mom!

Mom: Oh, hi!

11 thoughts on “Royal Flush

  1. I’m flying tomorrow and me being the Hautemess I am will have something happen to me. Hopefully all ID is kept in tact. My general problem is I forget that i have things in my pockets when I go through security. I love this story!

  2. That story is awesome! Though I’ve never flushed by ID away, I have been threatened with arrest in several foreign countries (once for kissing in a park at night, yes really), and I can tell you that if you find yourself ‘sans passport’ a trip to the police station and a report will usually get you approved to fly in no time. The only time I’d recommend getting off the plane is if you’re about to fly internationally through a place that needs proof of your visa, because then you might find yourself stuck in airport limbo, since they can’t prove you have the right to transit. Cheers!

  3. I’m not being mean, but this story was hilarious. I actually gasped when I read the part about your license falling in. Haha πŸ˜€ Hope this story ended well though 😐

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