Airport Excitement
I don’t think Jesse had ever been on a plane before. He didn’t tell me this, but I wonder why he endangered our trip. I was his chaperone, and we were going to the National Debate Tournament.
We were on our way to a week in Michigan, and I hoped to visit the Mall of America. Well, if you have never been, you should try to get there someday. It's an incredible two-story humongous mall, with a roller coaster inside.
That’s right. There's a roller coaster inside the mall.
Back then it had a Snoopy, Charlie Brown, Peanuts theme; it probably still does. But I almost missed it all of it because of Jesse. Now, don’t get me wrong. Jesse is one of my favorite students of all time. He was fun to be around, and he was also a very talented student.
But there are some things you just don’t say at the airport. This was back in the day before 9/11, but airport security has always been tough, especially when you try to joke with the ticketing agent.
I understand the need for security, and the most recent addition is going to be full body scans. This means there is a machine which will show the outline of your body. The security guard will be able to see any explosives attached to your person. I’m guessing they will also be able to see any enhancements, or additions, or padding you may be carrying. It doesn’t bother me, but I can see why it might bother some women. I wouldn’t want to be scanned, but I guess if we are going to fly, I guess we will all be scanned. I heard recently one hundred and fifty body scan machines have been ordered for the United States.
I don’t even like to be weighed at the doctor’s office. For some reason, their scale always makes me heavier than the home scale. I don’t really weigh myself that much, but I also don’t want to have one of those caliper tests, because I know my body fat is higher than it should be.
But that’s because I like being fat. Well, I was skinny until after college, and being a skinny guy is really a pain. So when I gained about fifty pounds in my twenties, I was ecstatic. Again, I like being fat. Well, a little fat; not morbidly obese, but I do have a spare tire. I carry my spare food with me. I could be healthier, but I have run 3 marathons at a very, very slow speed. There were some parts of the race where I’m sure I was the only one who knew I was running. It probably looked more like a hurry-up shuffle, but sometimes after twenty-six point two miles, how else is a fat guy supposed to look?
Jesse and I had big plans for this tournament. I had made a bunch of t-shirts that really weren’t authorized for sale at the tournament. I wanted to use the sale of the shirts to buy tickets to some shows that were playing while we were there. I set up a table; I sold the t-shirts, the money was rolling in.
That is, until the guy who was in charge of the tournament confronted me and asked me who had authorized me to sell this stuff. He was satisfied with the one hundred dollars I gave him, and I have a sneaking suspicion he didn’t tell anyone else about our little transaction, either.
The good news is we did get to see the shows, the Mall of America and even went to Planet Hollywood when there was still one there. I don’t think there's a Planet Hollywood there now.
But, what does all this have to do with what Jesse said at the airport?
Well, I had arranged for these plane tickets in advance, and since he was eighteen by then, he was also travelling as an adult. Jesse has a really good sense of humor, and he liked to make people laugh. I looked at the ticket agent and decided this was a man who really didn’t like to laugh, and probably didn’t like it when other people laughed.
He had those permanently etched frowns you see on people who have been at a job they really don’t like, for more years than anyone cares to know. So, when Jesse turned to me and said, loud enough for all to hear, “I’m glad I didn’t bring the gun,” I frowned. The ticket agent frowned, making deeper wrinkles.
There was a long pause.
I envisioned men trying to interview us in a small room while our plane left without us. The ticketing agent asked if I was Jesse’s chaperone. I said he was technically a former student who was eighteen and now was travelling as an adult.
The agent changed Jesse’s ticket to make me his guardian.
We did make our flight.
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