I Get Even With The TSA

You are all gonna think I made this up, but it actually happened. I know, because I had been plotting it for about 2 years, then finally mustered up the courage to follow through.

I fly about 100,000 miles a year, and spend a lot of time in airports, and airport lines.

We’ve all been there hundreds of times: lining up for countless security checks at airports, waiting to go on our flight somewhere.

We go through the routine of showing our Passport and Boarding Pass 11 times before we even get to out departure gate.  It’s getting ridiculous.

And, of course, annoying.

At LAX (Los Angeles Airport) you first show your Passport and Boarding pass at a security checkpoint at the bottom of an escalator, which leads you to the X-Ray machines lineup at the top.

So, after you pass this first checkpoint, when you get to the top of the escalator you have to show it again.  And the entire time, the TSA agent at the top is watching you go UP the escalator.

I mean, what the fuck can happen to you and your ID between the bottom of an escalator and the top?? I actually had this exchange with a TSA agent at the top of the escalator.

            TSA:    Passport and boarding pass please….

            ME:     I just showed it down there.  (pointing to the bottom of the escalator) And you watched me come all the way up the escalator.  Did you notice anything unusual?

            TSA:    No, but its policy…

            ME:     You really think I could organize a terror cell and full plan of attack in                                    the 14 seconds it took me to come up this escalator???

            TSA:    Sir!  If you are going to be difficult I am going to refuse you security
                         entry.

This, of course, is the ultimate threat by the $10/hour TSA dopes who didn’t make it past 11^th grade.  They are power-drunk with knowing they have been granted some authority to fuck up our travel plans.

So as travelers, we have to put up with this. We are forced to accept the wisdom and authority of some who has trouble stringing 3 cohesive sentences together.

But recently, I got even. Big time.

Usually, I travel with a zip-up hoodie.  It’s a good travel jacket: very comfortable. Also, planes tend to be cold, so if it gets warm it is easy to take off.  Plus the hoodie makes a nice pillow to sleep on - especially if I’m hungover.

Every time I go through security, they always ask me to take off the hoodie.  I used to argue that it has a plastic zipper, and there was no need to take it off since I was going through a body scanner, but I just gave up. You can’t argue effectively with these guys.

So, a few months ago when I was flying through LAX again, BEFORE I got to the airport I decide to put on the hoodie, but this time with no shirt underneath.

I zipped it right up to the top and then got to the airport and ready to go through security.  Sure enough, one of the TSA storm troopers stops me before I put my stuff on the X-ray machine.

            TSA#1:            Sir, you have to remove your jacket

            Me:                  Why?

            TSA#1:            All jackets, belts and shoes have to be removed.

            Me:                  You sure I have to take this off?

            TSA #1:           For sure.  Please take it off.

Now here is where the timing was simply fucking beautiful.  I wait a few seconds, while the TSA agent goes over to another line and starts in with the commands to the crowd behind me about “no gels, containers over 5 ounces, etc”

Then I take off the hoodie and put it on the conveyor belt to go through X-Ray.

So there I am, standing bare chested, getting ready to walk through the full size X-Ray machine when another TSA agent comes barreling over in a complete fucking panic.

            TSA #2:           SIR!  SIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!

            Me:                  (pointing to the TSA agent who told me to take off the hoodie)    
                                    She told me I had to take my jacket off.

            TSA #2:           (looking at TSA #1)  She did?

Now, because of the commotion, about 5 other agents come racing over.

            ME:                 (again pointing to TSA #1) That agent there told me I had to                  
                                    take off my hoodie.  Didn’t you??

            TSA#1:           Well, yes I did, but I didn’t know you weren’t wearing anything
                                    underneath it.

            ME:                Well, you should have asked. You just said I had to take it off.

                                    I didn’t want to but you made me.

Now, I am putting the hoodie back on, to practically a standing ovation from the people behind me in the line.  One guy wants to take a picture.  Almost everyone is smiling and cracking up amid all the confusion - except the foreigners who seem worried by it all......

Then, the TSA agents all huddle around wondering what to do, even though I have put the jacket back on. I'm sure it is all on camera in Washington somewhere.

            TSA#2:            Sir, we have to write this up as a report.

            ME:                  Go to it.  I did exactly what I was told to do. Now, for the record,  I’m going to   write up a report of my own and send it to the Department of Homeland Security, to the attention of the Director.  (shaking my head) Making folks take their clothes off like that….

I get through the body scan machine and start picking my stuff off the conveyor belt after X-Ray.

The TSA people are still meeting about what just happened, and there is confusion everywhere.  The supervisor walks over. I jump in front of her before taking off for my departure gate.

            ME:                 You know, not one person offered me an apology after making me take off my jacket and having to stand there half naked.

            TSA:                Sir, sorry for the misunderstanding there…

            ME:                 There was no misunderstanding; I did exactly what was asked of me…    

            TSA:                Well in the future tell them ahead of time you don’t have
                                     anything on underneath the jacket.

            ME:                 Why do I have to do that?

            TSA:                So we can avoid this situation again…..

I left the area and looked around behind me.  There were going to be meetings and reports for the next 2 weeks over this incident. I mean it was a fucking work of art!

Hopefully, in the future they adopt a “Phil” rule whereby they have to ask people if they have anything on underneath the jacket they are wearing before asking them to remove it.

But, in the meantime, I take daily satisfaction knowing I took the TSA to task, even if only for one day.

Knuckleheads.          

Christmas Shopping in Kelowna

It was great to be back in Kelowna, B.C. for Christmas Holidays.  Also thought it would be nice to do a little Christmas shopping while there; you know, pump a little money into the local economy. Thought the local business would be prepared to grab my hard earned loot.

HUGE mistake.

Most annoying shopping experience of all time.

Stores in Kelowna are exactly like window shopping; there is one of everything on display, but nothing is ever in stock to actually buy.

I decide to buy “Windows 2” tablets for all the kids for Xmas so I first visit “The Future Shop”; a sort of Canadian “Best Buy” wannabe.

After form-tackling a “service” representative named Garth (you know electronic- store-sales-guy:  bad breath, perv moustache starter kit, bad B.O. and messy, unwashed hair)

ME:                 Hey Garth – you lucked out today – I need 4 Surface 2 tablets…..

Garth:             Hmmmm…..not sure if we have any.

ME:                 You don’t have any?  At Christmas?  The most important shopping                                       time of the year??  Are you sure?  

Garth (enthusiastically):   Well, if it’s in stock, we got it!

ME:                 Wow, thanks for the incredible insight, Garth. And let me guess, if it’s NOT in stock you don’t have it.

Garth looks a little puzzled my remark, but he ambles off to check.  After 10 minutes he returns:

Garth:             Bad News. We’re all out of Surface 2 tablets.

ME:                 This is hard to believe.  One week before Christmas and you don’t                               
                         have any product to sell??

Garth:             Yeah, I guess we shoulda ordered more here….

ME:                 Ok.  Lets shift gears. Fuck the tablets,  Have you got any “GoPro”                                   cameras.

Garth screws up his face like he is about to be tortured, which of course, he is.

Garth:             No, we sold outta those a few days ago.

ME:                 No wonder you guys are always in receivership, (which is true) you                            never have anything to sell.

Garth:             You want me to get the manager?

ME:                 Whats he gonna do?  Give me some bullshit story about how this store                       never gets what they want from the main warehouse, etc etc etc.  No, I'm outta here.

Garth:             Merry Christmas!!

ME:                No, it isn't thanks to you and your shitty store

.

So, off I go to the only other big box electronics store in Kelowna called “Best Buy Canada” 

Now, in between stores I get a text from my friend in Belize who asks me to buy him a MacBook Pro., which he cannot get there.  More shit to buy now.

This is in addition to the 4 surface tablets I want to buy.

So I venture over to Best Buy Canada, and the same routine of having to get a sales person happens again.  But alas, I get a real geek; one that seems to revel in the fact he works at an electronics store.

ME:                 Hi Wendell, have lots to buy here today, so let’s get to it.  I need 4                                surface 2 tablets, and Macbook Pro 512GB – with the 17” screen. 

Not bad – about a $4500 order.

Wendell:         Hmmmm…….Ahhhhh……Hmmmmmm……Ummmmm

                        Lemme check on the tablets.  Think we might be all out.

 ME:               The week before Christmass?? All out?  Surely you jest                                                 Wendell.

        Wendell:         Gimme a second.  And let me check stock for that                                                                        Macbook Pro.

Wendell leaves and comes back.  He is walking with his head down so I know it’s bad news.

            Wendell:                     Bad news on both fronts, sir.  Nothing in stock on any of                                                            those items.

            ME:  (incredulous)    How, possibly can a store this size not have any of these                                                             items.  And even more so the week before Christmas.  Worse, why do you even have them on display?  You can’t buy them so I insist you take them away.  It’s misleading the buying public. We foolishly think you guys actually have a business here….

            Wendell:                     You want me to get the manager?

            ME:                             Please.

Several minutes later the manager shows up, and even though Wendell has given him the heads up, I further explain it is misleading to put items out for sale when in fact you don’t have them.

            Manager:        Well, we can order the items for people.

            ME:                 For when, Easter delivery?

            Manager:        I understand you’re upset.

            ME:                 No, I’m not upset.  I am disgusted that a major electronics store has next to nothing in stock, yet continues to advertise it is in business.

            Manager:        Well, we are in business.

            ME:                 Really?  What is your business?

            Manager:        Selling electronics.

            ME:                 And how are you doing so far with me today in performing                                           your business plan?

            Manager:        Not very well.

            ME:                 Uh-huh.  Gimme the name and email of the guy who is the                                            district manager, or is in charge of ordering for this store.  He needs an email slapping.

The manager writes this down and I leave the store, with one last place to try and spend my hard earned money:  a drugstore chain, believe it or not, called London Drugs.

They actually have a decent selection of electronics, and are great at service, but they are small.

I get there, and there is nothing.  I mean, absolutely nothing in stock.   I go easy on the guy because their chief business is selling pharmacy shit and small appliances.

So, my apologies to all my relatives who were supposed to get the Surface 2 tablet or GoPro camera:  you will have to make do with gift cards this year. 

But make a point of going down to these retailers and explaining how you got jobbed out of a tablet because they can’t count right.

Absolutely unbelievable.

"No Worries"

"No Worries"

Fuck, this saying annoys me to no end.  Why do people insist on using it all the time?  I mean, what the fuck does it even mean?

I go shopping today and buy some groceries, and finish the checkout by paying with a U.S. debit card.  Because I am in Canada it doesn’t work, so I use a Canadian one. Then the checkout girl starts in:

Me:  Geez, I have to remember to use my Canadian card from now on.

Her:  No worries.

Me:  Well, I wasn’t worried - just have to remember this in the future.

Her: (again):  No worries.

Me:  Wait a minute.  Is that you that has “no worries” or me that is to have no worries. Are you actually erasing all my worries?

Dazed, confused, look by her.

Her: Um, I’m just saying “no worries” to you.

Me:  So, I have absolutely NO worries?  You are telling me I am now totally, 100% worry free?  That’s great.  How do you do that?

Her:  Um, I think there is a misunderstanding here.

Me: Yeah, there is.  First, when you say this, it is confusing as to who, exactly, has nothing to worry about.  Second, if by some magical, divine interlude either of us were given the ability to wipe way a person’s worries, it’s highly doubtful we would both be standing here doing what we are doing.

Thoughtful Daze Now.

Her:  I see your point.

Success!   I am slowly succeeding in educating the masses about this idiotic saying. 

I leave the store feeling slightly elated that there is one less moron who will utter these stupid words.

Restaurant Bathrooms

Going out to eat at great restaurants can be fun, but I hate the challenge of the bathrooms. No, not using them – finding out which one to go into.

I’m in a great Sushi joint in New York and after a few beers, nature suddenly calls.

I walk into the bathroom area where there are 2 different doors.   Given the recently popular unisex bathrooms, I think this might be the case here.  However there are 2 different symbols on the doors so I know one has to be the “Mens” and one the “Womans”

But which one is which?

One door has a symbol that looks like a woodchuck fucking a vacuum and the other one looks like a cross between a hummingbird and a spider. What the fuck?

I wait to see if anyone comes out.  No luck. Then I hang around to see if anyone else can figure this shit out.  No luck. Now I really have to go after downing 3 beers.

I slowly open one door to check if there are urinals.  Nope.

I check the other one, and…. success!  All this trauma to take a simple pee break.

So an open Memo to all restaurant owners: 

Put a simple fucking “M” or “W” on the door, or give us the clever play on words if you have an ethnic or themed joint (you know, “Lads/Lasses”, “Kings/Queens”, etc.) so we can quickly go in and get our business done.

Don’t make us sit there wetting our pants while we try to figure out your shitty artwork/symbolism on the bathroom door.

Dickwads.

Fans in Jerseys

The word "Fan" is short for "Fanatic" when used in the context of cheering for any event.

I like being a fan, as most of you do too.

But sometimes it goes a little too far.

What annoys me are the people wearing game Jerseys of their team to sporting events, or even when they are just going out and not to a game..

I mean, c'mon...

Last week I see a guy wearing an L.A. Kings jersey, for Anze Kopitar.

I yell out to him, "Hey, nice game last night" He gives me a stunned, confused look.

I keep going:

ME:   Great game last night

HIM:  Oh... no... I don't play for the team, I'm just wearing the jersey.

EXACTLY! Take it off douchebag.


Even worse is going over to a friend's place and having to look at the idiot's wearing jerseys while we are watching a game on TV.

As my friend Whitney says, "Do I dress up as a dead hooker when I'm at home watching Law & Order: Special Victims Unit???"

So leave the fucking player Jersey's off when your going out with your chick or watching sporting events on television.  Let the real players wear them so I don't have to watch some overweight bald guy with an XXXXL jersey strut around like he's going into the game soon.

Dopes.

PARKING

OK.  

MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH.

I finally solved one of life’s big annoyances, by being annoying right back. Confused? 

Read on….

I mean, I cannot believe I didn’t figure this out sooner.

If it sounds like I’m so excited I’m going to pee my pants, it’s because I am.

We’ve all been here before:

We go to the mall and it’s really busy.  We drive around looking for a spot to park.

Finally, we spot a guy or girl walking to their car, see them pull out the keys, and stop in front of their car.  Many of us ask “Hey are you leaving?” to which the person usually answers yes.

So this exact thing happens to me a few weeks ago.  The mall parking lot is ridiculously busy, and finally a guy starts making his way my direction to his car.

ME:     Hey Pal – you pulling out?

HIM:    Yup.  Busy day huh?

ME:     Yeah – can’t find a spot and I’m in a rush….thanks!

So here’s where it gets annoying.

First the guy takes way too long putting his packages in the car.  Making sure everything is exactly placed in the back seat.

Then the guy gets in his car.  Instead of pulling out, he starts doing all sorts of shit in his car; adjusting the mirror (like he needs this), looking at his cell phone, searching around the back seat at his packages once again, and doing God-Knows-What-Else.

Now, its been about 5 minutes and I still don’t see the reverse lights come on indicating he’s gonna pull out.

Fuck this guy. 

He thinks he is gonna torture me by taking an inordinate amount of time pulling out.

So here’s what I do.

I pull RIGHT UP behind him so he can’t pull out without hitting me.  He STILL is not making a move to leave.

Finally, the car goes into reverse and he shoulder checks behind and sees me pulled up close.  He gives me a long stare and does some hand gestures. 

I stay put.

Then he honks his horn and starts waving like a maniac.

I don’t move. 

He then backs up about a foot, thinking I’m also gonna pull back, but nothing.  Dead still.

Finally he gets out of his car.

HIM:                What is you fucking problem?

ME: (with the window rolled down about 2 inches)  Nothing.  No problem.

HIM:                Well, move your fucking car!!

ME:                 In a minute. First I have a few things to do.  (I start fumbling around)

HIM:                What??????

ME:                 Well, you took your sweet time fucking around before deciding to pull out, so now I’m taking MY time backing up.

HIM: (heated)   Are you fucking nuts?

ME:                   Absolutely.

Now he starts jumping up and down, swearing, and threatening to call the cops.

ME:                 Yeah, go ahead and call the cops, pal.  I dare you.

Dude is now seriously getting upset and I am afraid he is going to have a stroke, so I pull back.  I roll down the window.

ME:                 You have 10 seconds to pull out or I’m gonna park it behind you for the rest of the day.

HIM:                Your fucking insane!!!!!

I back up fully as he jumps in the car immediately and drives off. 

For the rest of the day I had such a strange feeling of contentedness, knowing I finally found a way to get even with these assholes that have been annoying me for decades.

It’s doubtful I’m gonna get the Pulitzer Prize for this, but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing how to deal with assholes like that in the future.

NOTE:  I would not suggest trying this with people bigger than you, guys with a lot of Tattoos, or anyone incoherently mumbling to themselves, as they may be insane.

Gang Signs

I have been spending a lot of time on Facebook these days.  I’m not so sure why, but perhaps it’s the way I best keep in touch with my kids all over the North America.

Also, it’s a nice way to keep in touch with their friends as well.

There are always a lot of photos posted, mostly in drunken, compromising poses. Some are actually pretty funny.

But here’s what annoys me to no end:  People flashing gang signs in a lot of these photos.

Every fucking Facebook Page for someone under 25 has photos with them or their friends doing the gang signs.  You know the ones I mean:  palms facing in - 3^rd finger over fourth, or 4^th finger tucked under 3^rd, or the Crips/Bloods “C” done with both hands, and so on….

I mean, really??

Exactly what gang do all you whitebread idiots belong to?

The “living in my parents basement” Gang?  The “I work at a shitty minimum wage job” Gang?    

Child, Please….

Where I live, if you flash those signs (and you don’t really know their meaning) to the wrong person, you may find a fist in your pie-hole or a shank in your stomach.

Leave the gang signs to the real gangbangers who are killers, drug dealers, murderers, and so forth. Let them flash signs to one another.

Just keep your hands to yourself in these photos and listen to your real “Gang Leader” (your parents) and keep your room clean at home, cut the grass on time, and take the trash out on garbage day.

Retards.