I'm not a fan of flying. Don't like going to the airport, I hate taking off and landing is just evil. A huge tin can should not be soaring through the air. But a couple of times a year I suck it up and get on one of those flying death traps and start praying like I haven't for months. This year I'm headed to San Diego for Thanksgiving and so I'm lucky enough to travel on the busiest day of the year.Flying into San Diego always gives me pause. You'd think in a place with almost perpetual sunshine the airline employees would be a tad bit happier. But last time I was there I got chosen for a random bag check. Which is fine but as I stood at the table, as the security lady rifled through my bag, I noticed a shelf above her head. On this random shelf were two items, a box of latex gloves and the biggest jug of Vaseline I've ever seen.
After seeing that I answered every question with a "yes ma'am," "no ma'am." And it seemed to have worked as I wasn't violated in the name of national security. But ever since then the San Diego airport has always given me the heebie geebies.
