For the first time ever I took my pants off in the Admirals Club. No, not in the bathroom, but at the table I was sitting at. Let me explain.
I’m having a bit of an odd travel day. I’m flying from New York to Atlanta on American, and then from Atlanta to Tampa on AirTran. That’s because I’m heading home from Asia and my ticket to Asia originated and terminated in Atlanta (because the fare was much lower from there). I completely spaced and forgot to book my ticket from Atlanta to Tampa, so last night logged online, only to find that AirTran had the lowest fare at only $80 one-way.
The good (and at the same time bad) news is that I have an hour-long connection in Atlanta. I need to get home tonight since I’m flying back up to New York tomorrow for my brother’s wedding, so I really do need to get home, wash my clothes, sleep, and head back to the airport.
I get to the security checkpoint in New York (LGA) and the contract worker ensuring you have a valid boarding pass asked me to place my carry-on in the sizer, and it didn’t fit.
Of course with my luck this has to happen on the very last segment of my journey. Heck, even Japan Airlines didn’t have a problem with my bag, which is a miracle in and of itself. Of course I realize she’s just doing her job, so I wasn’t about to blame her. I tried to reason with her to the extent that I was flying American Eagle and my carry-on would be gate checked anyway. She argued I was actually flying American, claiming American Eagle leaves from a different terminal.
But checking a bag just wasn’t an option, thanks in part to my short layover in Atlanta. There was no way I could go to baggage claim and still make my flight home. So I did what I’ve secretly always wanted to do. I walked about five feet over from the checkpoint, opened my bag, and started “layering.” It was a hot day in New York so I only had on shorts and a t-shirt. Two minutes later I was wearing three pairs of jeans, two sweatshirts, two shirts, and my biggest pair of shoes.
I asked the same agent if she wanted to “size” me again, and she responded with “no need, sir, go right ahead.”
Now, wearing three pairs of pants, and four shirts/sweatshirts wasn’t especially comfortable, and I’m pretty sure I looked like I was in a spacesuit to those in the security line.
As soon as I got through security I headed for the Admirals Club, found a table, and immediately started taking my pants off. It didn’t occur to me until they were off that others were giving me looks of pure horror. Oops.
There you have it, folks. That’s what it takes to make a connection on AirTran…