I went to Miami for some shopping and alone-time last week. Ten excitement-filled days of sleeping until 11, going to Starbucks twice a day (I love saying, "Venti non-fat latté, please") and spending the rest of my time wandering in and out of the Apple store, Target and Publix. Ah, glorious stuff. Well, to tell the truth, one of my kid's little friends gave me her fever, sneezing and hacking cough before I left and I did spent most of my trip stoned on Nyquil and Benadryl. But that only made the shopping more pleasant for me. I'm really not much of a shopper. I walk into most of those places and my ADHD takes over and between the fluorescent lights (they cycle on and off at blinding speeds!), the colors and packaging and music and people talking...after a few minutes I can usually feel a panic attack nibbling at the very edge of my sanity. Thoroughly sedated as I was, it wasn't so bad. It might have been an almost Zen experience if I hadn't been with my pal, Ana, who's manically super-charged personality can make me jittery even with a double-dose of Nyquil coursing through my veins. At the end of my visit though, I'd gotten to see a couple of other friends, picked up all of my Amazon deliveries and caught up on my sleep. I flew out of Ft. Lauderdale airport on Spirit Air and, unfortunately, I believe I've seen the future of air travel and not only is it not pretty, it's not cheap either. While Spirit had better fares than most, they nickle and
dime passengers every way they can. They charge for EACH checked bag (not just the second, as many have started to do) and though they give a discount if you pay for the bags when you purchase your ticket, it's not that great a savings. I was only mildly annoyed when I had to shell out another $50 for an overweight bag. Had I known beforehand, I would have maxed out the weight for the full extra 25lbs. The shocker was when I was asked if I wanted to pre-select my seat - for another $10. They may have had pay toilets too, but I never got up after practically shoe-horning myself into my seat, so who knows? I think they were charging for beverages and snacks on-board. I don't know for sure because cold meds take the edge off one's hunger, so I really didn't care and I couldn't hear over my iPod anyway. The same iPod that I was asked by a scrawny, bedraggled-looking flight attendant with a Valley-Girl accent to remove. Four times. The first time I just smiled and nodded and ignored her. The second time she waved and cocked her head to one side and bugged out her eyes and pantomimed removing ear-buds. I just nodded and said, "yes". I was hoping she'd just give up and bugger off, but it's amazing how black and white instructions and a uniform make some people so damn surly. The third time she tapped my arm - jabbed it, really, with her bony little index finger. I slipped out an ear-bud. "Yes?" "You need to shut that off. We're moving." No shit, really? I just thought the terminal was rolling away. "Oh. Well, it's just an iPod. Do I really have to shut it off? I've never needed to before." "Yesssss. You need to shut it off and put it away." "Uh, okay, I'll shut it off." Why did I need to put it away? What? Didn't she trust me to turn it off? Even I didn't understand at that moment why I was getting so pissed at her and why I was so determined to keep my iPod on. She walked away and I tucked the player into my pocket, but left it playing. As she was walking to the back of the plane to take her seat, she saw me, rolled her eyes and said, "Ma'am, " (Oh yeah, that helped.) "you're going to have to put that away." "Why, exactly?" She seemed surprised at the question and proceeded to guess at the answer. "Because...it can interfere with the plane's radio system." I smirked. "No, it can't." I couldn't believe I'd said it and neither could she apparently, because she scowled and paused for a second and just then, I got a flash in my head of being escorted off the plane à la Adam Sandler in that Anger Management movie. "S'okay, nevermind, I'll take it off and put it away." She just shook her head and walked away. I turned and watched her head to the tail section and then I tucked my iPod back into my pocket, slid the ear-buds and cord through my shirt and out of the neck, tucked them back into my head, cranked up Coldplay and snuggled into my seat - a happy asshole and, more important, a still-on-the-plane-and-not-in-police-custody asshole. When she passed by later, she glared at me and the white bits of plastic stuffed into my ears, but it was too late. After we landed, I considered asking her why I wasn't told to turn off my music then, didn't that whole iPod-messing-with-radio thing apply to landing as well? But I was so glad to be home in Costa Rica that I just smiled politely and said, "Buh-bye" as I passed her on the way out. I still think I'm right about the iPod and I don't plan on turning it off on my next flight either. So there.


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