Airport Humor

[Bill Greenwood]

I enjoy a good laugh and if it is a bit out of norm or eccentric sometimes even funnier. I was about to post this before, but then came the Las Vegas tragedy and it seemed frivolous. Maybe we need something silly in the midst of all that. And I cant vouch for the truth of this story, i wasn't at the airport , but the tale is reported in the local newspaper happenings.
A young man had enjoyed a fun and uninhibited few days, but then was at the airport to catch an airline flight. He comes up to the TSA checkpoint and still in a good mood, if not quite all there, he's asked to take off his shoes for the scanner. Being good natured and wanting to cooperate, he readily takes off his shoes, and then he also takes off his pants. The story dosen't go any further, cant say what TSA said, but they do see alot. Anyway, I guess he made the flight ok. Hope someone had a cell phone camera, that will be a good one for a laugh years down the way.

[Frank Giger]

The farewell party at the end of my tour of duty in Germany had been long and vigorous and I was very much in my cups when I arrived at the airport.

The gate person commented that "You appear to be intoxicated," to which I replied, "Well, you appear to be two distinct people superimposed onto one, so there's that." She actually laughed, and told me to wait a minute.

I joked around with some of the other gate people, as I'm a happy sort of drunk, and we were all having a grand time when an official looking man came out of the tube that connects to the airplane. I was just saying that one thing I was looking forward to in the States were proper road cones, as they make for the ultimate party hat, when everyone went silent.

It was the first time I heard the very aviation related, "Sir, what are your intentions," but this time by a crew member of the aircraft.

"Sit down, shut up, go to sleep," was my immediate response, which got some snickers. I may be a foolish sort of man, but I'm no dummy.

"Have you eaten anything in the last six hours?"

"Are you crazy, sir? Eat before getting on a plane, knowing I'll be drinking?"

"Yeah, let him on," the guy said.

So they did. And yes, I did sit down, shut up, and go to sleep. Somewhere in the Great Circle I woke up to be presented with some water, an aspirin, and a cup of coffee.

One of the many reasons I always hesitate a moment before ever criticizing Delta.

[Ivanstein]

This is a story that has been told hundreds of times during my childhood and while the details vary slightly from telling to telling, its always good for a laugh.

My dad and uncles grew up in McCook NE, where life always seemed at a slower pace. They used to hunt coyote from a J3 back when it was legal (and there are plenty of stories about that too...) One of their buddies used to fly a cub as well and had never "gotten around" to getting a license because he never did any "serious flying".

Some time in the late '60s he decided to go see one of his kin who happened to be the base commander at the time at McConnell in Wichita. So, he loaded up his J3 and his wife and off they went. Now, normally you'd land at a smaller adjacent airport and call for a ride, but this was a man from "out yonder" in Nebraska, where friends are always welcome without hesitation. So, he did a downwind over the active and turned final lined up on the grass in front of the administration buildings.

In prompt military fashion, a couple military policemen showed up on high alert. When the base commander finally showed up, he broke the unwinnable circular argument which had ensued between pilot and officer.

"YOU CAN'T LAND THAT HERE!", shouted the officer.

"Of course I can nimrod! I did a damn fine job at it too!" was the rebuttal, and the evidence was irrefutable.

Sent from my XT1585 using Tapatalk

[rwanttaja]

I'm not much of a drinker; I limit myself to (at most) two beers or a glass of wine. Beyond two beers, there's a danger I'll break into a sea chantey. It is not to be risked.

My niece married a marvelous man about twenty years ago. He's deeply into beer and exotic coffee...in fact, he even published a local magazine (Minneapolis) on brewing for a while, and talked me into being an associate editor for it (know next to nothing about the subject, but I can read, write, and understand the English language).

He also was a home-brewer, with a separate garage for the makins'.

Anyway, I was visiting my family there in Minnesota. My niece lived not far from MSP, so when my brother drove me to the airport to catch my Delta flight, we stopped off at their house to say goodbye.

"Try one of my new beers, Uncle Ronny." He poured me a big 'ol stein. Not bad. "Try this other one." That was pretty good, too.

Got into the car for my brother to drive me for the short trip to the airport. As we pulled out of the driveway, I started humming, "Strike the Bell, Second Mate."

That was when I realized it. My niece's husband's home brew was 3.2%, nor even the ~4-5% of commercial brews. It was potent stuff.

I was schnockered.

Did all the classic things to try to hide it, when I got to the airport. Don't think any of them worked. Remember seeing a lot of small grins. Managed to keep from outright breaking into "Away Rio," probably to the relief of any real sailors and all music lovers present. TSA didn't seem to mind it when I tried to walk through a rope barrier instead of the gap next to it.

I got to the gate, sat down, shut up, and waited meekly for my flight.

Ron "Why don't we get drunk and..." Wanttaja

[CarlOrton]

In 1991 I was flying from ATL to DFW on a DC-10. A young man in uniform got on carrying a box of flowers for his mom, as he had just completed basic training and was going home. His buddy noted that they spent a few hours in one of the airport bars waiting for the flight. I was in the center section; they were about 3 rows in front of me on the starboard seats next to the window. The FAs were making a big deal of him being on the plane since it was a week or so before Christmas, he completed his training, and was so proud to present his mama with the flowers.

So as soon as we rotated, his stomach did as well. DC-10's had a pretty good angle of climb at the time and we were lightly loaded. Yup; all the "stuff" proceeded to run river-style toward the back of the plane. Fortunately, the folks behind him were able to lift their feet out of the way until we leveled off, and were then able to switch seats to the center section.

I felt sorry for him as they had (I wanna say) MPs greeting the plane. Could've been airport police.

[robert l]

Back in about '75, returning from a Scuba diving trip to Grand Cayman to Miami I was going through the customs line. Long hair, beard, as I still have today at 71. Anyway, the agent was picking people to step aside to be searched. I figured I would surly be one of them and I don't mind at all. I asked the agent how they pick the ones to be searched and he said; Well, you have on very short cutoff blue jeans, a wife beater tee shirt, tennis shoes and no socks, you don't have any place to hide anything! Now you see that fellow in the suit, he's got lots of pockets !!!
Bob

[Floatsflyer]

I'm flying Air Canada from Halifax to Toronto on a 747 that's come in from Paris. An hour into the flight, the Captain announces that he had to shut down one of the four engines because of a problem. He says not to worry, this 747 can fly very well on 3 engines but we'll be about a half hour late arriving in Toronto.

A little while later the Captain announces that he had to shut down the second engine but not to worry because a 747 can fly just fine on 2 engines. But we'll be late arriving in Toronto by another hour.

Amazingly, about 15 minutes later, the Captain announces that he's lost engine #3 but not to worry because a 747 was designed to fly quite well on just one engine. But we'll be delayed by another 2 hours arriving in Toronto.

The guy sitting next to me, who's been suspiciously silent throughout all these announcements suddenly blurts out in the loudest voice so everyone on the plane can hear, "Ya know, if we lose that fourth engine, we're gonna be up here all fu**ing day!"

[Frank Giger]

Back in about '75, returning from a Scuba diving trip to Grand Cayman to Miami I was going through the customs line. Long hair, beard, as I still have today at 71. Anyway, the agent was picking people to step aside to be searched. I figured I would surly be one of them and I don't mind at all. I asked the agent how they pick the ones to be searched and he said; Well, you have on very short cutoff blue jeans, a wife beater tee shirt, tennis shoes and no socks, you don't have any place to hide anything! Now you see that fellow in the suit, he's got lots of pockets !!!
Bob

In my last assignment in the Army I did quite a bit of travelling via commercial air. Lots of times it was rather late notice stuff, and with purchasing a ticket the same day of travel came the dreaded SSS on the bottom of the slip. Super Special Search is what I figured it meant, but at any rate I'd just walk over to the Super Special Search area without being asked. Invariably there'd be some other lucky random selection winner with me who would begin to become outraged by the profiling and begin to rant about the racist/sexist/religious/political/orientation nature of the TSA, the country, etc. that had singled him out. As I stood there in uniform, waiting for the same search as he.

Another Delta tale:

I was waiting at the gate for a flight (in civilian clothes), about an hour before boarding would begin, when I was attacked by a Conversation Leech. Now, then, normally I'm an understanding soul, and realize that when someone demands attention and must tell another everything about themselves (usually in the negative), it's because they're lonely in their normal life and really need someone to talk to. I really try to listen and engage, stay positive, and be sympathetic. But not this day. I had a headache, the flight had changed gates twice, and the person wasn't sympathetic - she was just annoying, and very loud as well. I'd walk to the bathrooms and then try to slip back to the gate area unnoticed to no avail. My conversation leech zeroed in on me to pick back up on her diatribe, unwilling to switch to another victim. Nothing worked - saying that I appreciated talking with them but I really wanted to finish my book only started a monologue about literature and reading in general. Admitting I had a headache and wasn't up for conversation lead to a lecture on strokes, diabetes, tumors, and all manner of things that can cause a headache.

Finally the nice lady from Delta announced that they would begin boarding "First Class passengers, those with disabilities, small children, and anyone else needing additional time to board," and I jumped up like a shot.

The gate guard gave me a knowing grin as she took my boarding pass without comment, and once aboard and seated in my very economy class assignment, the stewardess, er, um, flight attendant, made her way back to me and asked if I'd like a beverage.

"A cup of coffee would be grand," I admitted.

"You earned it," she replied with a smile.