Wednesday, May 19, 2010

"No, You're Weird!!!!!"

Something new: A travel story!

I had to travel to Houston for a meeting and decided to fly out of Eugene for the first time ever since it would be way more convenient for Steady J to drop me off and pick me up. Eugene has quite a nice airport, with a little cafe, gift shops and even "USB charger ports in the chairs!" as the TSA agent who checked my ID and boarding pass exclaimed when I told him it was my first time using that airport. "What a gem", I thought, "I'm coming back here!" And then the other TSA Agent took my toothpaste and my excitement was crushed.

I probably pushed the envelope a bit by throwing my semi-new full size tube in my backpack when I was hurrying to get out the door. When I was packing the night before, I'd realized that my travel size tube was in my desk at work. And I had no idea where my travel size deodorant had disappeared to. "No sweat", I figured. The TSA Agent in Portland had previously allowed my almost finished full size tube through with no issue. Apparently, he was incompetent, but quite accommodating which is not the optimal mix for a TSA agent.

The woman running the x-ray scanner had my bag pulled for a hand search by some pimply string bean fresh out of school. This was extra entertaining considering that I was the only person in the security line and there were six TSA agents. I guess I beat the Monday morning rush. Anyway, the youngster pulled my toothpaste and said it was not the approved size. Toothpaste is apparently not allowed in quantities greater than four ounces, yet my full size deodorant caused no red flag, which seems odd since that stuff melts down to a vast melty goo. The agent went on to say that my bag would have to be rescanned and they would dispose of my toothpaste for me. All I could think of was the plastic tube and the mix of diatomaceous earth and fluoride going into the dump!  "Can I leave it and pick it up tomorrow?" I asked. "No, we don't have that capability" was the reply. The agent asked if I could check my bag, which was a good suggestion, but I was under strict orders that the files I was carrying had to be kept on my person and I was not going to schlep 10 pounds of scholarship applications and transcripts without a bag to keep them in.

My backpack was rescanned and right before the toothpaste was pitched I asked "Can I squeeze out most of the paste so I just have enough in that tube to use for the next two days?"  Ol' pimple faces response was, "we'd have no way to know how many ounces would be left in the tube." And then I excitedly said, "But if the tube is eight ounces and then I squeeze out half of it, that would leave four ounces, and then if I squeeze out three quarters of that, I'd have one ounce!" And I was smiling with my brilliant use of logical estimation! And the young one was going to let me do it! Until he looked at the female who had scanned my bags and she shook her head back and forth. She told me to go to the travel shop and see if they had any four ounce containers for sale. I replied, " I don't buy anything new." and both agents looked at me like they couldn't decide if I was an idiot or a really incompetent terrorist who was running out of stories.

In a last attempt to save my toothpaste I asked them to wait while I searched my bag for a container. I thought there might be a film canister with vitamins in it floating amidst my change of underwear and hair straightener. All I could locate was a plastic freezer bag that had previously housed my toothbrush and toothpaste. I held it up inquisitively to the TSA agent and he said, "that would be kind of weird" and threw my toothpaste away right in front of my eyes. I wanted to yell, "No, you're weird! You're a WASTER AMERICAN! A Person who thinks everything is disposable and gives no thought to the resources used to make products!" and then slap him. But I didn't. I figured an angry outburst a 7am would put me on the TSA crazy list, and I really needed to get to that meeting. I had to settle for sitting at one of those fancy USB chairs while I fumed about being called weird and tore into a package of peppermint gum to chomp out my frustration and cover my breakfast breath.
                        
                             "You're weird!"
                                            "You're weird!"
                             "You're weird!"

Those words flowed through my head with each chew, alternating between being directed internally and back at the TSA crowd. I was super miffed and then I noticed the TSA comment cards and decided that they deserved a piece of my mind. When I was almost done filling out the card, I realized I had written, "Your agents threw away my toothpaste and then said I was weird!" as my complaint and felt like a total 8th grade loser. I folded up the complaint card and put it in my pocket to use as future scratch paper.

As I sat there waiting for my plane to board I started to wonder if this project is making me become a fundamentalist in my crusade against waste. I came to the conclusion that if I am worked up to the point of wanting to berate a TSA agent for being vigilant in their job, I am probably well on my way to being a "fundo" for my cause. And that doesn't actually trouble me that much. What does trouble me is the fact that I stand out so much in the general public for being conscious of waste. I am definitely not the norm. More people should be this weird.

3 comments:

  1. Yes!

    You definitely need a t-shirt that says "More people should be this weird."

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  2. You're not weird!! You're passionate and committed! Those are AMAZING qualities that, sadly, not enough people in our culture can appreciate.

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  3. You ARE weird! But it has nothing to do with the toothpaste! ;) KIDDING!!!

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