Delayed

Airplanes aren't the trouble, airports are.

So, before my trip to New Mexico (I'm already back, WTF!?) I was cleaning the garage (R.I.P. Garage Dweller) and came upon a tiny knife -- no bigger than my pinky. Absentmindedly, I picked it up. It was just a piece of junk I found and discarded into the trash halfway house I call my pants' pocket. I forgot about it until I was standing in the security line at PDX. When I remembered it was too late. I was past the point of no return. And it wasn't like I could pull it out of my pocket and announce, "HEY! OOPS, I FORGOT, I'VE GOT AN EFFING KNIFE HERE!" So, instead, I slipped it into my laptop bag, thinking, 'They'll either see it or they won't.' If they do I've got some s'plaining to do, if they don't I've got a story to report. Well of course they find it -- Homeland Security at its finest. I must have been put on some sort of watch, though, because the next thing I know I'm being asked to check one of my carry-ons. "Uhh, OK," I said, shifting things from one bag to the other.

By the time I reached ABQ, well, it was 11 p.m. and I was tired as shit. Down by baggage claim I waited formy now two bags. They were the first to come out, both my bags were. First out the shoot. And together. Red Backpack came out alright. Zipped and marked, easy to spot. Green Tent Bag, my trusty Green Tent Bag wasn't quiet right, though. It's zipper was split, and I didn't remember checking a split-zippered bag. Nothing looked missing, however, and I was too tired to look for someone to complain to. I flung the bag of dirty clothes into my mom's car and that was the end of it.

I'm sure I'm being monitored because when back at PDX I sent my ride a text message. Now, it might not have been the best choice of words (I think that now that it's too late), but I was sure they were accurate. When a plane lands you can't immediately turn on your phone. You have to wait until the plane taxis. I did that. And that what I texted just happened: JUST TAXIED.

My ride must have been confused (stoned) when he read this because he fired something back. A, REALLY? Or, a, WHAT? Or, I COULD HAVE SWORN TWO HOURS AGO WHEN YOU CALLED I WAS PICKING YOU UP? But I couldn't get those messages, see? And didn't until much later. My phone was on, the signal strong, but messages weren't coming in. So I didn't bother to call to explain that JUST TAXIED, was a simple sentence with the implied subject of THE PLANE (just taxied), and not animplied subject of, I WENT AHEAD AND (just taxied). So much of implications.

That's the problem with text messaging: Your messages can get mis-interpreted. There may be touch tones, but no sarasstic tones. You can miss your ride (though he did come back the forty or so blocks), miss the point, force a state of confussion, delay. So I'm powering down more often and focusing on what's in front of me -- a quarter of graduate classes, where they suggest that I not bring a knife.

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