Tuesday, November 12, 2002

Two airport stories that others

Two airport stories that others lived and I heard about:

Bob’s brother is a lawyer with an eccentric look and practice.  He was on his way from somwehere to somewhere, approaching the security checkpoint in the airport when he realized that his baggage wasn’t clean.  The outside was fine but inside he had a bunch of pot and a metal pipe wherewith to smoke it.  He looked around - with cops everywhere he felt it inadvisable to leave the queue and rearrange his belongings.  Rather, he put his faith in incompetent staff and a smooth attitude.  He passed the metal detector without incident, but a technician called him over for a bag search.  ‘Is this your bag?’ ‘Yes it is.’ The tech held up the pipe; it was unmistakeably an inappropriate item.  ‘What is this?’ Bob’s brother gathered his wits and savoir faire and replied, ‘It’s not a weapon.’ The tech looked at the pipe, and then at Bob’s brother.  ‘You’re right.  It’s not.  You may proceed to the gate.’ He did so.  A happy ending.

Tanja is one of my closest friends; I’ve known her since 1980 or maybe ‘79.  In that time we’ve had a few occasional nicknames for each other, but over the past several years many people in her wide circle of fascinating friends know her as ‘Da Bomb.’ Not everyone could carry off that moniker, but she does so quite nicely.  Many people know her only by that name.  She was flying from LA to SF to meet several of them at a party, but her flight was delayed.  Someone had been sent to pick her up; he was waiting at the baggage claim when she arrived and he pulled out his cell phone to tell the others.  ‘It’s me; she’s here.’ ‘Who?’ ‘Tanja.’ ‘Who?’ At this point, he started trying alternate nicknames, descriptions, anything but her main appellation.  The one that worked, that finally got the message across, was, ‘She whose name cannot be spoken in airports or federal facilities.’ After a moment’s pause, the voice on the other end of the line exclaimed, ‘Oh, Da Bomb!  Bring her up!’ The poor girl may need a new nickname.  You can’t use it if you can’t say it.