Friday, April 4, 2014

D Is For Daedalist...and Dipsomania


D was a hard one for me to narrow down, largely because there are so many great words that begin with d.
I mean, who knew that a deckle was the frame used to make homemade paper? Or that it can refer to the ragged edge of homemade paper? Or that defluvium refers to the medical loss of hair or nails? I mean, again, who knew there was a word for that other than balding?
But then I read daedalist (an aviator or pilot) shortly followed by dipsomania (an abnormal craving for alcohol) and I knew I had a couple of winners.
Because, honestly, nothing gives me an abnormal craving for alcohol like the thought of flying.
Seriously, I hate to fly.
And yes, I know it’s all very safe, and you’re more likely to die in a car wreck and blah blah blah.
But none of that matters because as soon as I get on a plane, I’m convinced that we are going to be the exception to the rule and plummet to our fiery deaths. I have been known to grip my grandmother’s rosary during take-off and moan to the person next to me “We’re going to die, sweet Jesus help us, we’re all going to die.”
Which is upsetting when the person next to me is my husband, good friend, or other family but I think it’s probably really disconcerting for complete strangers…although I personally think they should feel grateful for all the time I spend praying us into the air.
Drinking helps but only very little.
Another thing that I hate about flying are all the security measures.  Which probably seems contradictory—I mean shouldn’t someone who is afraid of flying be glad that we’re taking extra care to keep dangerous subversives off the plane?
Yes.
Unfortunately, whether it’s because I always look nervous or because I, apparently, am a dangerous subversive, 90% of the time that I fly, I somehow get called out of line to get the extra pat down. I’ve had my hands swabbed to test for dangerous chemicals, I’ve had my carry-on luggage searched, and I’ve been “hand-scanned” more times than I can count. Coming home from Sarasota a few weeks ago, something on MY HEAD set off the body scanner and the poor TSA agent had to run her hands through my hair.
It is interesting to note that my naturally curly mop top does NOT take well to being stroked with standard issue rubber gloves.
When she got done, I basically looked like a chia pet.
The worst time, though, was a few years ago when I went to Vegas with my friend Martha.  I got pulled out of line by yet another security checkpoint supervisor because I had somehow set off the weird body scan thing they use now.
“It was probably triggered by the metallic threading in your shirt,” she said.
I agreed as politely as possible and even managed NOT to make any sarcastic remarks because TSA officials aren’t exactly known for appreciating humor on the job.  And even I am not stupid enough to antagonize a person who could sign me up for a body cavity search.
“That’s really sensitive equipment,” I said.
She nodded and was almost apologetic when she explained, “We still have to check.” And then she said we could go into a private booth, if I wanted.
Which I thought was weird—and a possible invitation to the aforementioned body cavity search-so I said “No, here’s fine.” And waited for her to get out the wand and hand scan me.
The woman sighed to indicate I clearly wasn’t understanding her.  “Ma,am,” she said patiently.  “We have to search the area that triggered the alarm.”  And then, since I wasn’t picking up on her hints, she decided to just be blunt.  “Ma’am, I have to touch your breasts,” she said.
And, because I frequently have an inappropriate reaction to awkward situations, I started cracking up.  “Oh,” I laughed.  “I see…well, go ahead.”
“We can,” she reminded me “go to a private booth.”
I almost said “Why?  So we can make out a little first?”  But I stopped myself just in time and shook my head and said, “No, that’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I said raising my arms.  And then, because I can only suppress my sarcastic side for so long and I am, apparently, stupid enough to antagonize a person who can sign me up for a body cavity search, I grinned and added, “Go ahead.  Feel me up.”
But, dipsomaniac that I am, I kind of wish she had bought me a drink first.


18 comments:

  1. OMG I am almost rolling on the floor. This was so funny. I, too, am terrified of flying. And I have heard all the statistics about dying in a car crash or walking across the street. That still isn't nearly as scary as being a million miles up in the sky and knowing your life is going to end as the plane is crashing. Not in my books anyway. I always get pulled aside for a more through search too. It must be the nerves. I now no longer fly but the last few times I took the prescription drug Ativan and it helps. You are right about those TSA officials..they have no sense of humor at all.

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    1. I keep thinking I should take something too but then who would do all the praying?

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  2. What a great post!!!! I don't think I would have held back my comments about needing to be boob searched! lol Love it.

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  3. Bwa haa haa haaa!!! Loved this post! Especially how you tied it back to the beginning at the end. Classic!!

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    1. Thanks! It's one of those things that's funny now but on the day, sooooo awkward!

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  4. Hilarious!!! This dipsomaniac was imbibing while reading. Some cocktail shot out of my nose!!!

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  5. I would have done the same thing. I can't hold back my sarcasm for long, and I don't mean to cause trouble...it just somehow happens. Those TSA people need a good laugh.

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    1. I always try to hold in my sarcasm but it never lasts long and then I think "Wait, did I say that out loud?"

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  6. Thank you so much for this fabulous laugh! Love the word choices.

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  7. OMG! Laughing!! I work in the travel industry. I cannot tell you how much I despise TSA (not the employees... the "system"). I travel with lots of gadgets and I do not ever check a bag (learned that lesson when my bags went to Germany while I went to Trinidad... and I had to wear my bf's clothing for a week on our beach vacation!). So, back to TSA... because I carry a laptop, iphone, ipad, etc. they make me have 17 trays for all my stuff. I am an anxious person to begin with. I've never been stopped, but I've been tempted to have a loud outburst on occasion. My friend has had her hair searched... and she, like you, ALWAYS gets pulled out of the line. It's never happened to me. If anyone touched my hair I would absolutely flip out. I have a non-contagious skin condition that is "embarrassing" and I don't even go to a hairdresser because of it!! nobody is touching MY head!! I don't mind take-off and landing, but I hate being stuck up there in a tin can flying through the air, especially when there's turbulence. Thanks for the great laugh!

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    1. I never check a bag either and I sometimes wonder if it's the overstuffed bag that makes the TSA nervous...but I think it's just my high maintenance personality!

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  8. Security is such a pain in the butt! And its so annoying when people don't take their computers off or shoes off or get prepared before they are at the front of the line. Get it together, folks!

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    1. That sends me over the edge too. I'm always tense and ready to run through security like I've been shot from a gun!

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  9. Hello!
    I am Blogging from A to Z, too!
    And this was really funny! Thanks! I'm glad I found your blog (I am going through the list for other (HU)s; we appear to be a little thin on the ground). I hate flying, too, though once the plane actually takes off, Fatalism kicks in and that helps a bit.
    Melanie Atherton Allen
    www.athertonsmagicvapour.com

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    1. I'm usually better once we're in the air--unless there's turbulence, then I'm a mess--but I hate landing too.

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