Tom Ridge Ate My Hot Dogs!
I have no real problem with the Transportation Security Administration. Since 9/11, they've managed to keep the airways safe and clear, and security really isn't anywhere near as hellish as I thought it would be with the stricter procedures. But yesterday, the TSA did something to me that borders on unforgivable.
First, a little background. Back in early May, I bought 4 packages of Zweigle's hot dogs at the Wegmans near Dulles airport, which had just opened. As a kid, nairly a weekend would pass without Dad throwing some red and white hots on the ol' CharBroil (much to my mom's chagrin). The smell would get my juvenile taste buds in overdrive and remains one of the things I loved most about growing up in upstate NY. Eventually I came to Chicago, and every time I mentioned a white hot dog people would look at me like I had 3 eyes. When we left Rob's house in May and headed up to Baltimore for the Sox-O's game, I completely forgot to grab the dogs.
So Rob put them in his deep freeze knowing that someday I'd come back for them...and I did this past weekend. Before leaving for the airport yesterday, we lovingly packaged them into a small cooler. Upon arriving at Reagan National, we transferred the tasty frozen goodness from the cooler into a cooler bag. They were still frozen solid when I zipped them into the front pocket of my little rolling luggage thingamabobber. I checked my bag, the 4 of us grabbed a bite (our flight was delayed for 100 minutes due to mechanical issues) and eventually hopped the magic Airbus for the flight back to Chicago. After our uneventful flight, we headed down to baggage claim to grab our bags. As is always the case, Kris' bag was the first one out, and mine was the last one out. I snatched it off the carousel and immediately felt the front pocket. Still cold. I zipped the pocket open, and it was empty. My jaw dropped. My eyes watered. My dreams of kicking back on the couch Sunday after sailing with a white hot while watching football were dashed.
Naturally, I had to find out what happened. I prefaced my remarks to both of the very nice United personnel that I spoke with by saying "after you hear my story, you can truly say that you've heard it all." The second guy I spoke with told me that it is TSA policy to not permit perishable items in checked baggage. A cursory check of the TSA website tells me that perishables are permitted, but TSA and the carrier are not liable for them, so I can't even get my 16 bucks back.
Moral of the story--carry hot dogs in backpack instead next time.
Aside from that, DC was a great time. Lots of drinking..got together with some of Rob and Renee's friends Saturday and didn't get to bed until 4:30 apparently. Finaly got to see the Iwo Jima Memorial outside Arlington Cemetery and also climbed up the Netherlands Carillon, got some great pictures of the city...too bad it was so damned cloudy.
I have no real problem with the Transportation Security Administration. Since 9/11, they've managed to keep the airways safe and clear, and security really isn't anywhere near as hellish as I thought it would be with the stricter procedures. But yesterday, the TSA did something to me that borders on unforgivable.
First, a little background. Back in early May, I bought 4 packages of Zweigle's hot dogs at the Wegmans near Dulles airport, which had just opened. As a kid, nairly a weekend would pass without Dad throwing some red and white hots on the ol' CharBroil (much to my mom's chagrin). The smell would get my juvenile taste buds in overdrive and remains one of the things I loved most about growing up in upstate NY. Eventually I came to Chicago, and every time I mentioned a white hot dog people would look at me like I had 3 eyes. When we left Rob's house in May and headed up to Baltimore for the Sox-O's game, I completely forgot to grab the dogs.
So Rob put them in his deep freeze knowing that someday I'd come back for them...and I did this past weekend. Before leaving for the airport yesterday, we lovingly packaged them into a small cooler. Upon arriving at Reagan National, we transferred the tasty frozen goodness from the cooler into a cooler bag. They were still frozen solid when I zipped them into the front pocket of my little rolling luggage thingamabobber. I checked my bag, the 4 of us grabbed a bite (our flight was delayed for 100 minutes due to mechanical issues) and eventually hopped the magic Airbus for the flight back to Chicago. After our uneventful flight, we headed down to baggage claim to grab our bags. As is always the case, Kris' bag was the first one out, and mine was the last one out. I snatched it off the carousel and immediately felt the front pocket. Still cold. I zipped the pocket open, and it was empty. My jaw dropped. My eyes watered. My dreams of kicking back on the couch Sunday after sailing with a white hot while watching football were dashed.
Naturally, I had to find out what happened. I prefaced my remarks to both of the very nice United personnel that I spoke with by saying "after you hear my story, you can truly say that you've heard it all." The second guy I spoke with told me that it is TSA policy to not permit perishable items in checked baggage. A cursory check of the TSA website tells me that perishables are permitted, but TSA and the carrier are not liable for them, so I can't even get my 16 bucks back.
Moral of the story--carry hot dogs in backpack instead next time.
Aside from that, DC was a great time. Lots of drinking..got together with some of Rob and Renee's friends Saturday and didn't get to bed until 4:30 apparently. Finaly got to see the Iwo Jima Memorial outside Arlington Cemetery and also climbed up the Netherlands Carillon, got some great pictures of the city...too bad it was so damned cloudy.
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