Shame On You Peter

I sent a copy of that to TSA and asked that they "red flag" Peter from now on . He won't be smuggling again. He will now be able to compare screening notes with Michael Vick.

 

I don't think he's ever seen airports' rules as things that apply to his latteness.

 

Peter's anger is really misplaced with the TSA. He should really be angry at Sayyid Qutb and his friends who are at the root cause of all this.

 

Oh, if only you really did tell TSA...

 

Peter is now on "the list". If you think he complained about air travel before just wait.

 

Seriously. You ratted him out to the TSA? I find that sneaky, underhanded and have found new respect for you...

 

Just another example of Pk showing lack of regard for the little people and the law. I guess the NBC jet was not available.

Enjoyable/Aggravating Travel Note of the Week
I've just about had enough with these TSA screeners. First, they tell us to put our toiletries into the Ziploc-type plastic bags, with only liquids or gels of 3.4 ounces or less to be included. So I do that. It worked well enough for a couple of months. Though my contact-lens liquid was 4 ounces, every screener let it go because they knew contact-lens solution doesn't come in a smaller container. So last Thursday, as I was returning from Florida (and by the way, the west coast of Florida is the new New Jersey; the 54 miles from Sarasota to the Tampa airport turned into a 135-minutes stop-and-go odyssey in mid-afternoon), the TSA man took my zipped bag, examined it, and said to me: "It's too big. Slightly, but too big.'' He took the contact-lens solution out and asked me if I wanted to go back to the terminal and put it in checked baggage.

Of course, I want to add 45 minutes to my day! Give me the teensy $3, half-used bottle of solution and I'll go back on the train to the terminal, stand in line, check a four-ounce bottle of this dangerous liquid, then I'll get back in all these lines and come back to see you.

"No, thank you,'' I said.

He put everything except the toothbrush and deodorant back in a smaller bag, handed it to me, and told me to have a nice day.

I'll give you a nice day.

But my moment of triumph was pulling the six-ounce bottle of Bullfrog sunscreen out of my back pocket -- I was not checking a bag just to save this sunscreen -- and putting into my carry-on. Small, illegal victories over this anal system of "safety'' at the airports are the best victories.

 

if you ratted him out to TSA, that's hilarious ;D

but you may have only subjected us to that many more such stories... like when he wants to tell us that he had to undergo a rectal exam at Houston Intercontinental because they heard he likes to smuggle sunscreen bottles larger than 4 ounces onto planes...

 

I would hope that our resident PK satirist BYH is inspired by the new fodder that I have provided him.

I was being striped searched at Hartsfield when I hear hey Peter. I look over and see Michael Vick

 

The funny thing is--and MMQB, the poster, can confirm this--is I used to think it was in poor taste to mock PK, particularly his family. But you know what? The fuckin yogurt pretzels thing proved the apples didn't fall far at all from the tree. So everyone is fair game.

That said...*cracking knuckles*

POSTCARD FROM THE A-T-L

So I'm in line at Hartsfield, once again wondering why I must stand in line with the sweaty masses waiting to board coach and praying for John Lynch to call so I can show off to the guy in front of me, when I hear Hey Peter. I look over and it's Mike Vick, draining another bottle of Aquafina.

You know, when you work as hard as Mike Vick works, you're going to drink a lot of water. It's similiar to my best friend Brett Favre, who worked out so hard during the summer of 1995 he had to pop aspirin every 14 minutes.

"Yo dawg what up?" Mike said as he tore into a four-foot hero.

you know, when you work as hard as Mike Vick works, you're going to work up quite an appetite. It's similiar to my best friend Brett Favre, who worked out so hard during the summer of 1995 that he had to drink every night.

"Not much my man," I said. "How's the offseason workout going?"

"Offseason workout? Dawg what are you talking about?"

You know, when you work as hard as Mike Vick has worked to bring the Falcons to .500 over the last three seasons, you deserve to take the winter off. Like my best buddy Brett Favre did after the 1995 season.

"Yo man you gotta try some of this water," Mike said as he handed me a bottle of Aquafina.

Just then, my line finally moved. I thanked Mike for the water. He nodded, wolfed down another foot of the hero and picked up his cell phone. "Yo Marcus," he said. "Wow. Get out. Mary Beth did that? First date? ATM?"

Kids. Me, I just carry cash. Hundreds and hundreds of dollars, because I am that good.

I took a swig of the water. About 10 seconds later, I had a hankering for yogurt pretzels. I also started humming "White Rabbit" to myself. The goddamn line had slowed up again. The hell with this, I had more than enough time to search the airport for yogurt pretzels and still make my flight.

The more I drank the water, the thirstier I got. By the time I got to the kiosk offering yogurt pretzels, I'd never been so thirsty or hungry in my entire life. I pulled out one of my hundred dollar bills and told the low-paid peon to give me all the Aquafina and yogurt pretzels she had.

Realizing my flight must be close to boarding, I ran thru the airport as fast as I could, wolfing down water and pretzels the whole way. Damnit why could I not sate my hunger?

I got to the terminal and saw no one there but the ticket taker. Good! Perhaps they recognized that I am Peter King and I deserve a line all to myself.

"I'm here for Flight 678," I said, spitting yogurt pretzels and water with every syllable.

"I'm sorry sir but that flight has already boarded," the woman said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I said. "My flight is scheduled to depart at 4:22. It's 4:20. Get me on that plane!"

"I'm sorry sir but you must be ready to board half an hour before departure."

"Screw you missy do you know who I am? I'm Peter King!"

"I'm sorry but you'll have to reschedule." She smirked at me. I hate smirking airline attendants.

"The hell with you," I said. "I'll never fly AirTran again."

Just to screw them over, I went to the bathroom and crammed all the water and yogurt pretzels up my ass. Take that, TSA. I'll eat and drink whatever I want on board. Screw your 4-ounce crap.

With yet another airline failing the Peter King Customer Service Test, I look forward to flying ValuJet next week. I've heard lots of good things about it.

 

Outstanding...
Subtle 4:20...