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The Bastard is not a patient fellow. He will utilize any means at his discretion to cut ahead of you in line. Examples:

1. You’ve seen the so called “Status Access” Security lines at many large airports where passengers with high airline status levels can utilize a much shorter line to access TSA screening? Well, through careful observation and testing, the Bastard has learned that the confluence of several factors will often afford non-status passengers the ability to access this line. Most of these techniques require or will be much assisted by looking like a “pro” traveler, which means showered, shaved, roller bag & laptop bag & professional attire:
   1. If you are flying with a status passenger, stick with them, the airline will let you through.
   2. Often these lines are completely unmanned. Enter at will.
   3. For minimal queue: Look for Airline Personnel that are bored, sleepy or otherwise inattentive. Arrange your boarding pass in your hand to ensure that it can be identified as a boarding pass but that your thumb obscures the area of the pass where status is shown. Look at the passes of legit passengers to identify this area. Adapt a harried visage and a quick step and wave the obscured boarding pass at the lazy Airline Personnel, saying “Thank You!” They will let you through rather than stop a potentially late status flier.
   4. For queues: Make yourself invisible. Using a combination of the jedi mind-trick and the way of the ninja, meld yourself to the person in front of you in line, as if you are a single passenger. His or her buttcheeks are your buttcheeks. What is the sound of one hand clapping? Shadow your host passenger on the opposite side from the Airline Personnel and use your host as a block. Do not acknowledge the Airline Personnel if at all possible. When approaching, focus your attention on something in your bag and quietly rifle through as if the Airline Personnel simply does not exist in your reality. Avoid engagement at all costs and if they insist, mumble that “we’re travelling together” and nod at your host. Read the rest of this entry »

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We all know by now that the TSA screening process is a complete joke but apparently we need to go through it anyway to get from point A to point B on an airplane in the USA. Here’s a method to select the best line for the metal detector at that critical moment when the line diverges. If you disagree or think you know better, leave a fucking comment, smart guy.

From the moment you join the line for security, you should be carefully sizing up every passenger ahead of you in line according to the classifications below. You are not concerned about the passengers behind you – their only role is to smell your flatus.

• Airline Staff or Airport Employees = -1 – look for heavily worn roller bags and clothes with airline or official insignia.
• Business People and Road Warriors = 0 – they can be identified by blazers, pantsuits, worn laptop bags, and an air of boredom when going through security. They’ve been here before.
• The Wealthy = +1 – they can be identified by their upscale baggage & clothes (fur/ascots), and their air of superiority and disdain for their fellow passengers and the security checkpoint.
• Leisure Travelers =+2 – look for their air of excitement and comfortable, loose-fitting (or very tight-fitting) clothes. To them, security is one more exciting step on their way to some exciting far-away land like Orlando or Phoenix, AZ. If they appear bored, treat them as Business People (0).
• Kids under 20 = +3 – look for “Juicy Couture,” “Sean John,” “Abercrombie,” and repellently vibrant skin. If they appear extremely bored they may be a model and treat them as Business People (0)
• The Elderly = +3 – look for white hair and a shuffling gait.
• Families with multiple small children = # of passengers +5 – you can’t miss these because a cloud of chaos surrounds them. Generally mom is shouting to the rest of the clan that they need to do this and that so you shouldn’t have any problem spotting them.
• The Clueless/Insane = +5 – these can be identified by their looking around in bewilderment, an expression of fear and fascination playing across their slackened faces. “What is this? An Air – port?”

When the lines diverge for the metal detector, the line with the smallest number is the line you should choose.

These scores have been scientifically tabulated by measuring the awareness of each class of passenger to the TSA screening process and the likelihood that they will need multiple passes at the wand or will have their bag delayed. Since Airline Personnel and Business people are most concerned on getting through as quickly as possible, lines with a high density of these classes will move fastest. Since the Wealthy prefer to have things done for them they will enjoy having TSA tell them to empty their pockets, remove their gem-encrusted jewelry, and place their Fabergé eggs on the conveyor. Leisure Travelers and Kids are generally so excited by the wonderment of the airport that they always forget at least one thing – be it shoes, a belt, or the ziplock bag. The Elderly move so, so very slowly and are generally confused by the inexplicable TSA requirements. Families and the Clueless are the most important individuals to avoid in every step of travel. They bring a zone of chaos with them, enveloping everything approximately 10 feet from wherever they are standing. Within this zone, expect to lose your ticket or ID, trip over your shoelace, accidentally shit yourself, realize that you are wearing your jockstrap on the outside, or have your pants fall down because you forgot to replace your belt after security. Avoid this zone at all costs.

Lesson: All travelers can and should be classified and mathematically rated for the ease of YOUR travel.

See Also: The Bastard WILL Cut the Queue

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A reader shares this tale that fills the Bastard with disgust and hatred:

When I got to the airport, there was nobody in the security line. I could hardly believe it. I breezed through security in less than a minute. As I walked through the airport to my gate, I happened to walk past the one hour earlier Philadelphia flight’s gate, just after the final boarding call. I inquired about the availability of seats, and there were still plenty. So, I hopped on and the plane. The FA had given me a window seat (I go crazy in anything but the aisle), but the last 5-7 rows of the plane were close to empty so I just found an empty row and hunkered down. When I got off the plane, I called the parking shuttle and they were outside waiting when I walked out of the terminal. In the end, I was home at least an hour early.

The Bastard hates you. And also suggests you skip the shuttle and try an airport valet service instead. Thanks to The Knee Defender for his story. Fucking dick.

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The Bastard Traveler was on his way home and all he could hear was trhe hacking and whooping and sneezing of the other passengers around him, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. No one likes a sick Bastard. When the beverage cart came he asked for orange juice. The flight attendant must have felt the Bastard’s paranoid vibe becuase she brought not one, but TWO orange juices. How considerate of her. A ray of sunshine in the bleak, misearble world of coach airline travel.

So the Bastard took his sweet time drinking his orange juice, flipping through some music and trying to drown out the death rattles of those around him. When the beverage cart came back, it lightly clipped his knee in just such a way that the reflex was activated and WHAM! the knee came up to the tray, sending the OJ onto the Bastard Traveler.

It was the nearly full 2nd cup and now it was running down my shirt and was literally making its way down all the nooks and crannies of my clothes to my crotch and my ass. I was taking an assbath in orange juice and was utterly powerless. I then activated the call button, something I rarely do.

The nice lady came and when she saw me, she responded “Ohh, that’s always a bummer. I’ll get you some towels.” She brought me a big bundle of towels and I fruitlessly tried to blot up the OJ that hadn’t yet pooled around my scrotum. How fucking humiliating and miserable. The Bastard Traveler was really motherfucking pissed.

When I got home a few hours later and finally stripped down, my underwear and shirt-tails were still wet.

Lesson: Don’t get the second beverage.

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Listen, fuckface, just because your seat can recline doesn’t mean that it should. When you recline you steal a good 20% of the precious airspace of the passenger in back of you and a good amount of the legroom. You make it almost impossible to use a laptop and you make eating uncomfortable. Don’t fucking do it, dipshit!

If you do recline, the Bastard Traveler will make sure that you are so uncomfortable that you will resume the upright position immediately. I will drive my knees into your seat, then I will pulse my legs at random repetitive intervals until you resume the upright. I don’t fucking care if the flight is 4 hours long, I will do this to assert my territorial right. I will not stop. I will not give up. If you are tenuous and stubborn enough to persevere, I will then remove my shoes, exposing my extremely odorous feet, and thrust them under your seat and as far forward as possible to ensure that the overpowering stench will waft upward and envelop you in all of your reclined comfort. Since no man nor woman has ever survived this onslaught, I do not know what I might do if you persevered even the stinkfoot, but I think you should not doubt my imagination. After all, I am The Bastard Traveler.

The only time it is OK to recline is if you are on a very long flight that takes you overnight where 50%+ of the cabin is sleeping and reclined. In this case, it’s OK and you get a pass. But you shits that recline for a 2-hour commuter are the lowest of the low and I’m gunning for you!

I saw something truly spectacular on a flight recently. When the flight was deboarding, a woman 2 rows behind me tapped the shoulder of the woman in front of her and asked “WERE YOU COMFORTABLE FOR YOUR FLIGHT?” The recliner was a skinny Asian woman who may or may not have understood the question because her response was barely audible, and she was 3 feet away from me. The victim, a chunky middle-aged woman, repeated, more loudly “WERE YOU COMFORTABLE? … BECAUSE I WASN’T! YOUR RECLINED SEAT MADE ME VERY UNCOMFORTABLE!”

The Asian woman looked very uncomfortable and meekly said something. Chunky wasn’t going to be put down so easily. “WHEN YOU RECLINE YOUR SEAT IT MAKES THE PERSON BEHIND YOU VERY UNCOMFORTABLE! THOSE OF US BACK HERE IN STEERAGE NEED TO RESPECT ONE ANOTHER’S SPACE!”
Oh, you can bet your sweet ass that the Bastard Traveler was loving this. Then, to the Bastard’s surprise, a hippie chick piped in a few rows back “It’s her seat, she paid for it, she can recline if she wants! Leave her alone!” That was my cue.

“SHE’S RIGHT!” I declared. “IT’S TASTELESS AND INCONSIDERATE TO RECLINE ON A 2-HOUR FLIGHT LIKE THIS!” Then the Indian guy who was seated next to me piped up – “it is her seat…” I shot him a hot glance and he trailed off with “the airlines ought to do something about it…”

I addressed Chunky, loud enough to be well heard – “JUST DO WHAT I DO AND DRIVE YOUR KNEES IN UNTIL THEY STOP” and she said “I won’t do that.”

I surveyed the crowd waiting to deboard and what I saw was telling – those that looked like seasoned travelers – businessmen and women, and those that were over 5 feet tall were nodding slightly and looking askance as the Asian woman. They agreed. They were too timid to say so, but I know. I have that power.

The Asian woman probably wasn’t aware of her transgression, which is one of the reasons why this post exists – to inform the uninformed. I felt a little bad for her but Chunky was right – those in steerage need to be particularly aware of the comfort of those around them in order for the whole stinkin’ thing to work. otherwise we’d all melt down and start throwing SkyMall catalogs at each other, poking eyes, pulling hair, giving atomic wedgies the whole thing. It would be pandemonium.

Lesson: Don’t Recline.