My Caribbean vacation began one snowy cold morning around 3:15 a..m. For those of you that now me that is early for me to be functional and upright.
However since I was leaving the cold for a warm sandy beach with my sweetheart I was in a wonderful mood and ready to travel. That was until they weighed my suitcase.
I don’t really understand why that in the past few years it has become so important to have your suitcase weigh under fifty pounds. Every time I ask I get some b.s. answer about balancing the plane, blah, blah, blah…. If that is true how in the world did we ever balance the plane before this rule? And won’t all the guys that only pack three things make up for all of us women that pack everything but the Christmas tree? Sounds perfectly logical to me. And if I am having to pay $25.00 for my bag to fly shouldn’t I be able to pack what I want? I digress.
The nice young man informed me that I would have to remove 5.2 pounds out of my suitcase. Wonderful !! Nothing like opening your suitcase and pilfering through it in front of a total stranger.
As I unzipped the bag the one stranger become six as the line behind me formed. I began taking out things and he placed them on the scale. My curling iron weighs approximately 1.2 pounds. Information that I really could have cared less about. I was still over by four pounds.
Apparently when you open your suitcase and reveal all your unmentionables for public viewing it makes the people behind you feel like they know you.
I began to get advice from the growing crowd of travelers. As they shouted out which items they thought would help me get under the limit it began to sound an awful lot like a Price Is Right game. I expected Drew Carey to appear at any moment and tell me if I got under fifty pounds that I could spin the wheel.
You will be happy to know that my clothes steamer (which I never used once on the trip ) weighed in at 1.3 pounds and an adorable pair of Clark sandals and a pair of pink Reebok running shoes (I don’t run but they were cute and pink) weighed approximately two pounds combined.
When I began to pull out under wire bras the Trans Am guy said I was close enough and let me proceed. The crowd behind me that had now come to have a vested interest in how much my stuff weighed actually clapped and I zipped the bag and moved on.
I think the other travelers were interested because they knew that they were the next victims of the scale and at any moment they could be finding out exactly how much their underwear weighed. Nothing like the potential for public humiliation to bring a group together.