While I love to travel, I also hate some parts of the process of getting there. I’ve written about it before. Making your way through airport security is consistently one of my least favorite parts of the trip. I’m only carrying-on a large handbag which contains a novel, my netbook, an empty water bottle, snacks, my iPod, and the other necessities that one typically carries in a purse. Again the bag is big but it's not outrageously large. It's the same size as the one that you see tons of women carrying around each day.
The line for security was exceptionally long but I had plenty of time until my flight so it wasn’t a big deal. Well, it wasn’t until an older woman got in line behind me. Each time the line moved a few feet forward, she would run into my bag. Each time. I don’t think she missed it ever once. Clearly personal space was an issue for this particular traveler. I know I could have turned around to glare at here or ask her to stop it but I actually turned it into a game. It seemed incredible that she could bump me each and every time. I was waiting with anticipation for the time when she miss one opportunity to make contact. She never did.
Additionally, although she was traveling alone, she would randomly ask questions to her fellow travelers standing near her. She asked several people, including me, why some people went on a different, and much shorter line. I explained that they traveled so much that they’d accumulated enough points to have special privileges while traveling. She didn’t think much of this. A few minutes later, she wanted to know if it would be a problem for her to carryon to small cans of pineapple juice. I told her that you weren’t allowed to carry on more than three ounces of liquid anything. She didn’t like my answer and hailed a passing TSA employee who told her the same thing that I had told her. She asked him what she was supposed to do with them and said told her, ‘to drink up’.
So, she stood in line behind me, bumping my bag each time we made forward progress, pounding her pineapple juice. Finally, we approached the scanning machines and I headed to one on the left and thankfully she headed to the right. Relieved, I made my way down to the gate and only waited moments until they started boarding. Given Delta’s random zone assignments which I can’t make heads or tails of, I quickly found myself in my aisle seat at the back of the plane. The window seat was empty so I didn’t want to make myself too comfortable knowing that someone would come shortly to fill that seat. Imagine my horror as I looked up and saw the security line lady heading my way. Noooo! Gratefully, she wasn’t right next to me but one row up in the aisle seat across from me. She’s there now drinking a can of pineapple juice that the flight attendant brought her.