Air Journal: Dec 22 Take 2

I learned my lesson yesterday: Always Check In On-Line The Night Before. Check!

I also got to the airport earlier than the day before, but I decided to park in the same place I had parked just because maybe doing it twice would impress it on my memory. Lot A, Section 6. Check!

I always end up checking a bag, mostly because I want to be able to carry my knitting without worrying about it. The TSA guidelines say that knitting needles are in theory allowed in carry-on, but, as always, the agent at the checkpoint has final discretion. Let me just say that I squirm thinking of the rather large number of knitter on Ravelry who have freely posted on the forums that they have gotten into arguments with security over their knitting needles. That never ends well. Or others who print out the TSA guidelines and plan to shove them in the agent's face should they try to confiscate their needles. Um, people, it is so trivial to forge a website printout. If I ever saw an agent change their mind over some decision because someone was waving a printout in their face, I would immediately call their supervisor. I am totally not joking. (I could also go on about people asking whether it's ok to bring their needles without even mentioning where they're flying from. Different countries have totally different rules about things like this. Honestly, sometimes the utter lack of common sense among knitters in cases like this embarrasses me.)

Anyway... I usually carry a small crochet project on with me. No one gives a rat's ass about crochet hooks because no one seems to know what they are.

At any rate, I checked my bag and went to the security line. Except, there was no line!!!! I ♥ the Bob Hope Burbank-Glendale-Pasadena Airport!

I have never flown first-class before, and frankly, I wasn't too impressed with the amount of extra space, but, eh. My impression from always having walked through first-class to coach was that the women seated there were generally, um, plastic, and the men often looked like slobs. On the flight to DFW, I was seated next to a piece of plastic who was reading a book by Donald Trump. Ewwww.

When I got to Florida, we were apparently on the second-to-last of the airline's incoming flights for the night. Instead of bringing our bags to the claim in a timely manner and then going back for the flight landing 15 minutes later, they decided to do them both at once. So we waited half an hour. We're not talking about an enormous airport, either in volume or geographic size, here. sigh