the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Monday, April 11, 2005

Leavin' on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be frisked again


Yeah, baby, I made the dolphins dance! These fellows live and play at the Baltimore Aquarium.

Yes, I have spent the day traveling. Smooshed into airplane seats clearly designed for undernourished children, havin' my little bit of airport serenity space invaded by middle-aged men in trucker hats who think the li'l lady could use some company, smooshed again the back of the taxi with two co-workers who are also in Baltimore for the conference, finding there is no Soap Net on the cable here (and they call this civilization?), couldn't find bubble bath in the shop downstairs (again, civilization?), eatin' room-service naked wings, now drinkin' a warm Dr. Pepper in my room 'cause I'm too lazy to go get more ice. This all makes me reflect on the subject of travel.

Airport security has always been fun for me, even pre-airscare.

On a trip to New Orleans in 1998, I was stupid enough to leave all the stuff in my pockets. When it came time to pass through security, of couse, I was asked to empty the contents of my pockets, and they gave me this ridiculous little sandwich-sized Tupperware container for the purpose of holding said pocket shit. Ha! Well, I emptied, and emptied, and emptied, the change, the kleenex, the overtuffed-with-inconsequential crap wallet, the lighters (yes, gotta have backups, you know), more change, mints, guitar picks, gum, more kleenex, bass picks, and yes, more change. I think I filled up four of their pitiful little Tupperware containers. I was traveling with Balulah for a conference then, and her parents, to whom I had just been introduced, stood by and watched with a combination of amusement and horror. Since then, I have learned to empty my damn pants pockets before arriving at the airport, and Balulah's parents have learned that I am, in fact, a flake.

I had a bit of a different encounter with security at Bishop when I flew to Chicago in 1997. At the time, I still had some body jewelry in; specifically, I had a navel ring and a ring in my right nipple. I hadn't flown in years, so the thought of the metal detector never occurred to me until I heard it beep its protest as I strolled through. The grandmotherly woman attending to the machine began having me remove articles of clothing that could be offending the machine. Right there in the airport, I stripped. Well, not really, but I had my leather jacket off, my belt off, and my boots off, and to me, that means I've gone to enough trouble to get laid. Grandma began to look a little nervous, and I saw her reach for the scanning wand. Trying to save us all some trouble, I volunteered, "You'll find body jewelry here" pointing to my navel "and here" pointing to my right breast. She looked even more nervous, and she started running the wand over me in a way that is usually only allowed by someone who has just bought me a rather nice dinner and plied me with alcohol. But there was no dinner, no flirtation, no goodnight kiss, not even a fuckin' corsage, as she came at me with that beeping stick in her hand and began to violate my every crease and fold. Sure enough, the warning beeps came just where I'd told her. For some reason, that made her look more distressed than before.

So she felt me up. Somebody's grandma grabbed my tits right there in Bishop Airport. And what did my supportive husband do while I was standing there in shock and a little mortification? Of course, he laughed and laughed and offered absolutely zero support while this little old lady was takin' liberties with his blameless wife. And he continued to laugh, with no remorse or shame, until I was on the airplane. And then probably on his way home, too.

Travel is always an adventure. If you should ever deign to travel with me, it will also be side show.

14 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Anonymous dazed and confuzed said...

I don't think there's ever been a time, Bucky, where you've haven't made my "dolphin" dance - happens every time. And I'm gay! Damn, you're good.

12:18 AM, April 12, 2005  
Anonymous dazed and confuzed said...

I like Paula Poundstone saying she wanted to get up on the x-ray machine to see if they could diagnose whether or not she had a metal plate in her head. "I don't remember getting one, but I think I might have a metal plate in my head. Do you mind if I just lay down on the conveyer and you can take a look?" - Try that next time.

12:21 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger JessicaRabbit said...

Man gramma would of had to cop a major feel on me, prolly would of killed her.


Road trip!!!

12:28 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Bucky Four-Eyes said...

Dazed, your dolphin can join my ballet any time!

Jess - I know you would run some fierce interference for me with the titty police. It's so on!

12:36 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger snaps79 said...

I'll frisk your Midwestern ass. SPD this week is Elvis inspired. Thank SpoonPresley for the idea. My mug is a TEN. Wait 'til you see it. Now, start posing.

12:57 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Bucky Four-Eyes said...

HDL - you mean it's not just grammas who want to cop a feel on me? Yay!
I can work with the Elvis theme. thankyouverymuch

1:31 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

HDL, I'm enjoying the blue dress one, can ya just leave that one up for a while?

Hey, Bucky, on the trip back? When they start feelin' ya up? Just break into any Kiss song!

"Hot hot, hotter than hell"
"Meet, meet you in the ladies room"

if they go for the boobies:
"Go baby driver!"

6:46 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Amy said...

Aww, poor bucky gettin mow-lessted by a mean old granny. The least she coulda done was given you a gift, maybe half a container of lily-of-the-valley talcum powder or something.

8:25 AM, April 12, 2005  
Anonymous LadyBug said...

Bucky, you should've looked Grandma in the eyes and said in your hooker voice (and come one, I know you've got one; we all do), "No kissing on the mouth."

9:35 AM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Ern said...

I used to work with a woman who married a man from Mexico. They flew down to visit his family. No problems. But she flew back earlier than he did, and at the airport, they full-on rubber glove strip-searched the poor girl!

I don't usually have metal detector problems, but I got my pocket knife confiscated once. It was a swiss army knife that was a gift, and actually from Switzerland!

12:45 PM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Squirl said...

Google really is reading what we write. Now there's an ad about brain tumor patients here.

3:28 PM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Greenthumb said...

My dolphin is still freaked out by the fossilized vagina...no dolphin ballet for me...unless it includes Brad Pitt.

3:43 PM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger Nilbo said...

Anytime you want a pre-flight inspection ...

You know, just to speed travelling time.

7:25 PM, April 12, 2005  
Blogger She who shall not be named said...

Never been on a plane. Do you have to take the jewelry out? My captives won't come out without pliers.

7:47 PM, April 12, 2005  

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