April 10th, 2012, Tuesday Tales, A Day at the Airport.


Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Several weeks ago, a Pilot needed a Pilot, when he had a meltdown and the Jet Blue plane had to land in Amarillo, instead of Vegas.

I went to San Diego recently and this prompt will help me come up with something silly for it.  I am going to invent a silly trip with a passenger falling through the cracks.  Think Franz Kafka meets a modern American airport.

Herr Melkentoast was flying from New York‘s JFK back home to Vienna.  He arrived at the airport with his beat up travel bag and shopping bags.  A gruff TSA agent demanded his passport in a surly New York accent.  He was a large intimidating African-American.

“Was?  Herr Melkentoast cupped his hand to his ear trying to understand the man.

The TSA agent roughly grabbed the passport out of Herr Melkentoast’s hand and made a note on his ticket.

Herr Melkentoast approached the conveyor for the hand luggage.  “Sir, will you please remove your shoes. ”

“Was?  Vy should I remove my shoes?  Are you trying to steal my shoes?”

“No sir,” the TSA person said with strained patience.  “We need to examine the inside of your shoes, we check everyone this way.”

“My shoes are made by the finest shoemaker in Wien.”

“Shoes are shoes, you’re holding up the line.”

The New Yorkers on line going to foreign destinations threw in their two cents, yelling “Move it along, we got flights to catch!”

“These New Yorkers, Mein Gott, so rude.  I vant to leave.”

“Well, you take your shoes off, you can leave.”

Herr Melktoast removed his shoes and placed them on the conveyor along with his bags.  Comments about smelly feet filled the line.  Mr. Melktoast was waved on, to the X ray machine.

“Do you have anything in your pockets, sir?”

“Are you planning to rob me?”

“Sir, just empty your pockets.”

He removed a well worn almost moldy wallet and coins of different denominations along with paper clips and other metal objects.  It took him ten minutes to remove everything from his pockets.

The line was getting even longer.  Herr Melktoast walked through the X-ray and it went off.

“Do you have anything else in your pockets, sir?”

“No, but I have metal in my body.  Are you going to open me up like Adam giving Eve a rib?”

Mr. Melktoast, please come with us.

 

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About tucsonmike

I am originally from Brooklyn, New York and now live in Tucson, Arizona. I have discovered a passion for writing. I have five books out now, with a sixth on the way. Take a look @ my book list: The Search for Livingstone An Affair of the Heart The Search for Otzi Griffith Justice in Space. Moriarty The Life and Times of a Criminal Genius Available now on Smashwords - Amazon and Barnes and Noble As to not bore my public with just "Buy my book," I am also interested in baseball, the outdoors, art, architecture, technology, the human mind and DNA. I learned Ashkenazi Jews, of which I am one, have to lowest rate of Alzheimer's in the world. Therefore, I treat my brain as a muscle needing a workout. I enjoy good food, flirtation, beautiful women (I am happily married for thirty years), so just flirting ;) I was considered autistic when I was young, trying to figure out if I have a mild form of Aspergers and learning from that. That is for future posts. You can also see I love history. Enjoy my sarcastic silly look at the world, and making History more interesting than a textbook.
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8 Responses to April 10th, 2012, Tuesday Tales, A Day at the Airport.

  1. dakotatrace says:

    Thanks for the chuckle this morning, Michael. I needed it. While I haven’t recently been to an airport, I a similar situation happen when I took my son and his jazz band to the Board of Trade. – my son set off the detector and after several minutes of patting him down, running the wand over him – it was his steel toed boots which had set it off.

    Dakota

  2. karencino says:

    Great tale Michael. As I read it, I could picture the scene in the airport. I would have to say there would have been a few curse words in the mix to, especially coming from native New Yorkers.

  3. I sense the frustration in his voice. Funny tale, Michael. Well Done.

  4. Sherry Gloag says:

    LOL thanks for the laugh.

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