I consider myself a seasoned traveler. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s Summer, Winter, Fall or Spring, haha, there’s a little bit of Sunday humor for ya. And, don’t threaten me with a good time that includes an airplane because you will not need to ask me twice. I’m the epitome of “have cheetah print bags will travel”.
I recently went on a quick trip to Vegas for a spa show. As with any trip, I made myself a checklist for all things needed to assure a fun time.
Hair stuff, cute clothes, cuter shoes, swimsuit, Cowboy’s credit card (for emergencies only, of course). Just kidding on the “emergencies only”, I whip that piece of plastic out whenever the need arises. Cowboy, if you are reading this (like you tell me you do) I love you long time (insert heart emoji) and I am NOT the one that charged the newest Louis Vuitton Jungle purse to your credit card (which comes out in September). Sooo excited!
My go-to travel companion is my Sweet Girl. She brings laughter to anyone that is around her. Especially me! That girl has me laughing so hard that my cheeks hurt.
She always takes the lead when we are in the airport. It’s actually quite impressive how she navigates her way through lines of people and service dogs. It comes from her frequent travel to and from L.A. That was such a fun experience for her…and for me.
Can we talk about those “service dogs” for a hot minute? They are everywhere! I saw a tiny chi-Wawa in the grocery store that was sportin a vest that read “service dog, do not pet”. What in the world?! And that little chi-Wawa was asleep in the grocery cart…service dog…pfft.
Anyhoo, Sweet girl and I made our way to the security checkpoint. She went to one line and I went to the other. After removing my shoes, and my jewelry, the security guard waved me through the x-ray machine. He then instructed me to step aside for a female agent-
FEMALE AGENT: Ma’am I need to check your bun.
ME: You need to check what?
FEMALE AGENT: Your bun in your hair.
ME: (laughing) What exactly do you think I have hidden in my bun? Some sort of weapon? Or, maybe a stiletto that I can use as a weapon?
FEMALE AGENT: (Void of humor) You have a lot of hair. I’ll need you to take down the bun.
ME: Are you sure? My hair was wet when I put it up. I’m pretty sure it’s a sight you do not want to see this early in the morning.
FEMALE AGENT: (Still void of humor) Yes ma’am and you’re holding up the line.
Are you kidding me?! I have never in my life been accused of “possibly” hiding something in my hair nor have I ever undergone a “bun pat down”.
ME: Okay, the bun is out. How exactly are you going to check it?
FEMALE AGENT: I’ll need to pat down your hair.
ME: Well, good luck with that.
The “bun pat down” only took a few seconds. She hands me back my hair band and rushes me towards my plastic bins.
FEMALE AGENT: (Still void of any humor) You might want to head to the restroom to fix your hair.
I apologized to the passengers that were waiting in line behind me. I told them that apparently I needed to arrive at the airport just a smidge earlier to allow time for my hair to be checked.
By the time I finally catch up to Sweet Girl, I already knew that my hair was out of control. It does not behave well when it is put up wet.
SWEET GIRL: What happened to your hair? It looks like it’s been struck by lightening.
ME: It’s called a “bun pat down”. Compliments of the security checkpoint guards.
SWEET GIRL: Can I take a picture for daddy?
ughh!
‘Til next Sunday y’all- Tammy
