Indian Airlines and I
I left Kerala with little fanfare (except for Ganesh's offer on the way to the airport: "Madam would like to stop for baby bananas?") and got ready to head to Mumbai via Indian Airlines. IA has some definite perks--like the pineapple juiceboxes and hard candy they give you at takeoff and the good snacks (banana fritters for everyone!) and then it has a whole host of eccentricities, like the fact that tickets are still handwritten. No matter. In Trivandrum, you board the plane in the middle of the runway, '60s jetsettah-style, and I was loving that. The whole flight to Mumbai, scary music (imagine the Hawaii Five-0 theme song playing in reverse...totally HJ's) played, which was sort of a drag, but that was minor since I was hell-bent on not getting on my flight in the first place.
In my defense, I was a wee bit aggravated by the space-invader man standing next to me in the check-in line. Despite ample room in our line, he kept coming to within an inch of me, which is up there on my Least Favorite Things list, so I kept turning abruptly and backing into him--all the things one does to set boundaries, but he was ignoring it. When I got to the front of the line, he stood next to me, even though there is only one agent. I glared. He didn't move. Finally I spread my arms out over the counter (all 18 inches of it) and said, "You have to give me some space!" He looked at me blankly. So then I had to pushthe man away. Crikey.
In this positive frame of mind, I went through security, only to get stopped because of the kid's scissors I carry for needlepoint. These scissors had made it onto every other IA flight I'd taken thus far, so I kept showing the security guard that the blades weren't sharp by pressing them into my palm and he kept saying "NO!" and then I sort of got a little overly ballsy and said, "The scissors have gone on two other IA flights. No one's stopped me! I'm taking them!" This, unsurprisingly, did not go over well. We went back and forth for a while, then there were some stern conversations in Mayalam between the other security guys and then a higher-up appeared who told me to come with him. At that point I was thinking "Well, I hope someone good plays me in the Lifetime movie adaptation of how I ended up stranded in a Keralan jail without bail" so I followed him outside to where all the checked baggage was being held. He asked me to show him my bags, and I did, and then someone came over, took the scissors, and put them inside my bag. So then I thought maybe it was time to chill with the attitude.
Tragedy averted, I returned to the security guy, who then insisted that I needed to remove the lighter from my backpack. The lighter? I had to unpack things to show him that there was no lighter, and attempt to make nice.
The lesson learned here is an obvious one, but don't attempt to argue with security guys at the airport. Der.
In my defense, I was a wee bit aggravated by the space-invader man standing next to me in the check-in line. Despite ample room in our line, he kept coming to within an inch of me, which is up there on my Least Favorite Things list, so I kept turning abruptly and backing into him--all the things one does to set boundaries, but he was ignoring it. When I got to the front of the line, he stood next to me, even though there is only one agent. I glared. He didn't move. Finally I spread my arms out over the counter (all 18 inches of it) and said, "You have to give me some space!" He looked at me blankly. So then I had to pushthe man away. Crikey.
In this positive frame of mind, I went through security, only to get stopped because of the kid's scissors I carry for needlepoint. These scissors had made it onto every other IA flight I'd taken thus far, so I kept showing the security guard that the blades weren't sharp by pressing them into my palm and he kept saying "NO!" and then I sort of got a little overly ballsy and said, "The scissors have gone on two other IA flights. No one's stopped me! I'm taking them!" This, unsurprisingly, did not go over well. We went back and forth for a while, then there were some stern conversations in Mayalam between the other security guys and then a higher-up appeared who told me to come with him. At that point I was thinking "Well, I hope someone good plays me in the Lifetime movie adaptation of how I ended up stranded in a Keralan jail without bail" so I followed him outside to where all the checked baggage was being held. He asked me to show him my bags, and I did, and then someone came over, took the scissors, and put them inside my bag. So then I thought maybe it was time to chill with the attitude.
Tragedy averted, I returned to the security guy, who then insisted that I needed to remove the lighter from my backpack. The lighter? I had to unpack things to show him that there was no lighter, and attempt to make nice.
The lesson learned here is an obvious one, but don't attempt to argue with security guys at the airport. Der.
posted by Rebecca at 8:31 AM
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