Always Learning

On the last morning of our vacation SuperK and I bought a couple of hand carved wood items to help us remember our trip, as if we were going to have trouble remembering 7 days out of the cold in sunny 80 degree weather: a small box (by "small" I mean "large") and a small end table (by "small" I mean . . . it's a table, for God's sake). We decided to pack these items, which we did not need, so that we could transport them home as "carry on" luggage. The only way these could rationally be called "carry on" is if we also had a small crane to winch them into the overhead luggage compartment on the plane, which is designed for small items, not furniture.

In my defense, I have tried to be considerate about airplane travel, as long as it doesn't inconvenience me in any way, shape, or form. I've never been one of those people who try to save 8 minutes at baggage claim by bringing 250 lbs of luggage into the plane cabin, using up enough overhead bin space for fifteen people. I glare at these people, typically. It gives me a comfortable feeling of superiority.

Here's the exchange at the ticket counter in Belize City:
SuperK: "Is it going to be OK to carry these items onto the plane? We don't want them to get damaged."
Agent: (eyeing the items dolefully) "I don't know. It's a pretty full flight."

Did I mention that I have a bad temper (by "bad" I mean "really pretty awful")? I have managed, by trying to practice these principles in all my affairs, to jam this temper way down deep inside my subconscious. It isn't gone by any means, just under control most of the time (by "most" I mean "some"). Even though it's locked away in a jail cell, swaddled in chains, and guarded by fearsome warriors it manages to get out from time to time.

I was trying to find out if we could check our furniture as carry on, not if the flight was full. I didn't give a shit if the flight was full. That's American's problem, not mine. Don't book so many passengers. Don't charge for checked luggage. Don't allow people to bring on furniture.

Horseface: "Can you guarantee they won't be damaged?"
Agent: (saying nothing, well trained in handling pissy passengers).
Horseface: "Well, then I'm taking these out to the gate. You can ask someone else to check their luggage."

As we walked away I felt a little tinkling of regret.
HF: "I was a little shitty . . . "
SK: "Yes, you were."
HF: "What do you mean by shitty?"
SK: "You know what you said."
HF: "You mean I was . . . shitty."

Funny thing happened. After standing in line for an hour to get through customs, we found out that we didn't have a form that the ticket agent should have given us, so we were booted out of line.

Had to be a coincidence, didn't it? Didn't it?