We ALL get the shafting thats for sure. Since 9-11, flying has become the quintessential pain in the butt, and since I look like the quintessential terrorist...I MUST, or why do they ALWAYS pull ME aside for a full cavity probe...the hassle is longer, harder, deeper, and with feeling.
But no reach-around.
We exit Floridian terra swampa at 7 AM Saturday morning. On To Ill-Annoy for a quick change of unsafe at any altitude plastic flying things, then over to Iowa. Since no flight is longer than 3 hours, all these cheap SOB's will give us to consume is a "soft drink".
Joy. It has been decades since soccer mom's banned cigars on commercial aircraft so I'll instead be sucking my nicotine inhaler. Purchased at a convenience stand at Heathrow. Over the counter. No prescription. Here they want you to shell out $150 or so, along with but of course a prescription, to stay away from cigarettes because it should be the biggest hassle imaginable. The upside is the wonderful little smoke shop I'll be visiting not long after touchdown. I'll exit the store chewing, smoking, puffing, and absorbing as much tobacco as one human being could possibly tolerate. My in-laws abhor tobacco so there's also the plus in that they'll be sniffing like chow-chows in heat all a'wonder as to who could possibly have had the unmitigated nerve to carry such odious goings-on inside their demesne.
I might post another before we leave, depending upon how irritable I feel after getting up at 2 AM.
Oh hell, almost forgot.
Happy Memorial Day.
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Speak yer peace, fella's