My husband is the worst air-traveler; he doesn’t follow the rules and always wears the most security-risking, time-consuming accessories and shoes. After 25 years of trying to convince him there’s a better way, he still dresses like this when flying.
This flight from hell actually took place after the flight, and took place just before 9/11. At the time, my husband and I were living in Bucks County PA and took a flight from Newark to Myrtle Beach. The first leg was fine, but the return was going to be remarkable, I just knew it in my gut.
When we arrived at MYR, I asked my husband (who had just finished the last cigarette from his pack) if he wanted a new pack of cigarettes from my backpack so he’d have them when we disembarked in Newark. He said no. I asked him to be sure he had everything packed and nothing on his person, as I am stuffing the last items into my backpack before going through security. Suddenly, I notice my husband wanders toward security without me, oh well. Next thing I know he’s being pulled over and several security agents are around him… doofus forgot to pack his pocket knife, so he was promptly scorned by the agents and had to go back to the counter to retrieve his checked bag in order to stow the knife.
We finally board and he immediately orders 2 margaritas and continued this practice throughout the flight. I had a few too, but he was quite smashed upon landing. I knew I’d better keep him in check or all hell would break loose. As we were departing the plane, my husband bypasses the auto walk I just stepped on and makes a beeline for the bar saying I’m going to have a smoke! I told him he can’t smoke in there and that he should come with me to baggage claim so we could go outside and smoke while waiting for the bags. He ignores me and proceeds to the bar and I called back “meet me in baggage,” thinking he would do so promptly as soon as he realized he had no cigarettes.
That’s almost the last time I saw him in about 2-1/2 hours. I got the bags and waited and waited. Since I was on the opposite side of security from the bar, I couldn’t go looking for him, but at one point stood just outside security and briefly saw my very confused looking husband walk right past security (the exit he should have taken) and off toward the international terminal! Not a good sign.
After having him paged several times, I decided to take the monorail out to the farthest lot (figures) to put the bags in the car. I had little hope that my lost husband would be there, and he wasn’t. So I left a note on the windshield saying “STAY HERE!” I began to wonder if he would even remember where the car was parked. I went back to the monorail station and asked a security agent if he could check at headquarters to see if my husband had been arrested as I was sure he had done something stupid by then. He suggested I have him paged; I told him I already did. He checked and said they didn’t have him in custody.
After several trips back-and-forth, I finally was reunited with a very tired, sad and sober man (found him napping on a bench near the locked car). We proceeded along on our 2-hour drive home from the airport as I listened to his unbelievable tale…
I was right, he tried to get arrested… apparently, he quickly realized he couldn’t smoke at the bar, but proceeded to have a beer. Then he realized he didn’t have cigarettes and somehow made his way out onto the tarmac to “bum” one! He never did. He became very upset that he couldn’t find me and said he had me paged as well. He got to the breaking point and told me he laid down on the ground directly in front of the parking gate exit in order to get arrested, because that way someone would find me. Nope, they ignored him and cars drove around him! I guess it wasn’t long after that he sobered up and realized going to the car would be best. I was furious as we should have been home by then.
Needless to say, I try not to travel with him anymore, but when I do and I’m not happy about something, I just say “remember Newark!” and he plays by my rules.
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
How the heck did he get out onto the Tarmac without police or someone noticing! Even pre-9/11 you had to display all types of credentials and ID's to get anywhere near those areas. I betcha if he pulled that now, he'd have security and police jumping all over him. Being drunk at an airport is never a good idea (especially for those of us who tend to wander while inebriated!)
Tony, I used to work for Host International many years ago in STL. Our locker rooms were down some steps behind the coffee shop. Proceed down those steps and you were out on the tarmac. I know it is totally changed now, but at that time, anyone could basically step out.
This sounds more like a "life from hell" story.
Or a "partner fromHell I should get rid of" story.
yup
lol I don't care what it sounds like.. It had me giggling. I loved the story.
Hahaha, agreed! This story is hilarious! What a patient woman you are!
Your husband is quite a catch.
And you are still married to him after all that? Wow! Great story, thanks for sharing it.
You sure he does not suffer any form of Alzheimer?? sounds so much like it!
He's a drunk, she's an enabler. What else is there to know?
People who get drunk aren't necessarily drunks.
Tony. Never under estimate the places a drunk person can find themselves in. Certain people when they get to a certain level of inebriation seem to develop the ability to walk through walls or something.