Screwed Up Texan has moved!

You will be automatically redirected to the new address. If that does not occur, visit
and update your bookmarks.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Practice Makes Perfect at Airports and at Home

A few days after Christmas last year I was at the Grande Dame Walmart hitting up the sales aisle looking for a good perfume--and there I saw it, the perfume I've been wanting to purchase since 1988 when it first came out. That is a long time to wait my friends. Just like flying. In fact, before Sunday morning I hadn't flown in ten years, so you can imagine my trepidation as I walked into the wrong terminal at Dallas Fort Worth International. Couple that with the fact that I had no idea what I was doing that I felt like a complete nervous wreck. I was sure I was going to get patted down and strip searched on the spot. So, in an attempt to thwart karma I located the nearest person that looked like they knew what they were doing and had them help me check in and get my ticket. Who knew thirty pounds would be so heavy or expensive.

My next stop: Security.

Now no one told me how security worked before Sunday. Sure, I got vague descriptions on having to take shoes off and making sure my pockets were empty and that I didn't have hair gel in my purse. (Who uses hair gel anymore?) Really, I was so anxious that I was petrified just to have a stick of gum with me. So I think it is quite self-explanatory why I walked past the first TSA agent.

"YouWho! Miss, where are you going?" he asked.

I looked around frantically, then thought that perhaps he wasn't talking to me since he had a wire coming out of his ear. I kept walking.

"YouWho...what are you doing?"

"Are you talking to me?"

"Who else?" (Okay, so he had a point since no one else was near us. It logically made sense he was talking to me.)

"I need to see your boarding pass. Oh! What is that perfume you are wearing? It smells delicious!"

"Oh, that's my Exclamation perfume. Got it at Walmart."

If I needed a pat-down, I was requesting this TSA agent.

I walked down the line, took my shoes off, went through the metal detector, and looked for my friend, Andie. Thank God the metal detector did not detect my wire bra.

Then it was time to get on the plane and take my seat. Who knew I was about to have the best conversation in my life with a seventy-two year old man. I've never looked out the window so many times.

That's right--I had a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with a seventy-two-year-old man who gave me sex tips. Because as he says: "Practice makes perfect!"

Or precisely he said, "You think making love now is good now, just wait til you're my age. You'll have it perfected. Practice makes perfect!"

I looked out the window.

Then he proceeded to tell me all about his first time when he was fifteen with a thirty-year-old woman, how you don't need Viagra if you're "making love", how I should grab my husband around his neck and bite his ear, how I need to take charge like a cougar, and how he's been married for 51 years but was now on his way to see a girlfriend who he hadn't seen in 44 years.

It was the best conversation ever.

I looked out the window a lot.

Then for some crazy reason I gave him my cell phone number so he could call me and ask me how things were doing at home in three weeks. I am now seriously reconsidering my mental state at the present. Anyone in Canada want to send me some thought filter pills?

I've never been so happy to be on the ground.

PS: I'm having fun with the Walmart references thanks to Andie and Jane. What? Don't know what I am talking about? Then read the post scripts to Sunday I was at Wolfgang Puck.

PPS: There is no way in hell I am answering the phone when that old man calls. I may need to change my number.

Disclosure: General Motors paid for my 2.5 hour conversation with an old man on an airplane to Detroit as well as my experience with TSA agents. In case you were wondering, I did not get patted down. Andie did though.

Full Disclosure


Expat From Hell said...

Oh, this is good, my dear. Very good, indeed. Now pardon me while I search Blogspot for a posting from a 72-year-old man! God knows what's on HIS mind after a conversation with you...! EFH

Kristi said...

Ha! I think I would have excused myself to the bathroom and stayed in there till landing time. I think I'd be more comfortable in there than sitting next to that old man, and that's saying a lot since I avoid airplane toilets like the plague! Or maybe I would have begged one of the flight attendants to seat me somewhere else. You sure have the darndest things happen to you!

Karen said...

Oh....that is funny! Well, I guess you have some new stuff to try....

Glad you missed the pat down....poor Andie.

Foursons said...

Oh my gosh...old people are THE BEST! I would totally answer the phone, just for more blog fodder.

Chet Of The Undead said...

I was sure I was going to get patted down and strip searched on the spot.

So am I...and yet, it NEVER happens!! Geez what's the point of carrying a "Nice Package" on your person if NO ONE wants to... discover it??

(My secret stash of security "bribe candy" if you must know...LOL :P :) )

(Who uses hair gel anymore?)

Prince?? Or at least...uhhh.... Prince's cat maybe?? :)

That's right--I had a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with a seventy-two-year-old man who gave me sex tips. Because as he says: "Practice makes perfect!"

Gaaawwwd Larry King is such a perv!!

Oh me sorry, he isn't 72 is he?? So....112 is it? :)

Welcome home to the greatest state on Earth...and probably the Universe!! B)

Alex said...

LOL!!! I can relate to this one!! My wife thinks I'm an old person magnet.... lol everytime we go somewhere together I get at least one old person come and talk to me... about nothing in particular, but it drives her nuts because it always happens! I vote 1 - answer the phone! LOL!!!!!!

Mindee@ourfrontedoor said...

That plane ride sounds like pure torture. Next time make sure you have headphones and an MP3 player with you!

apathy lounge said...

Once my former editor (who is now 80)regaled me with the joyous news of his impending a woman he had met when they were both 12. He was 70 or so at the time of the wedding and he really, REALLY wanted me to know that their marriage was not one of convenience. You the way lonely old people get married so that they have someone to eat with at Luby's. No, he wanted me to know that they were just as anxious for their...uh...marital bed as any other newly joined coupld. I could have done without that information.

andie said...

how do you not get he pat down and I do!?!?!? not fair!

Blog Widget by LinkWithin