I used the now-standard line on the TSA agent in Shreveport, LA, when they flagged the bag with my dilators: “I’m a sex educator. Those are dildos.” The agent visibly paused, zipped the bag back up, and said, “I’m not going to open it. I still have to wipe it down to check. He,” she gestured at the agent at the x-ray machine, “owes me.”
I was delayed getting into Dallas, so missed my connecting flight. I gave candy to the ticketing agents and – low and behold – I was the first person called from the standby list. Got a window seat, too, and saw lightening flashing in some clouds during the flight. Very pretty.
I gave more candy to the flight attendant on the plane from Dallas to Chicago (they’d been delayed and I figured they could use some love) and he gave me a bottle of wine saying he needed to “even out the karma.” That’s right, not a glass of wine during the flight; he handed me an entire bottle of red wine in an opaque plastic bag as I was getting off the plane.
Never a dull moment. But now I am so incredibly ready for bed.