That one time when a particularly voluptuous robot swindled me out of some alligators

Today I was checking my email on Hotmail because I signed up for an email account at the age of 13 and I don't like change so HOTMAIL IT IS. Little did I know that the MSN messenger chat service I also used at the age of 13 was up and functional, and I was totally signed in to it. Then a little chat box popped up on my screen from Jen+Lova. Now, I'm not entirely sure who she is, but I'm positive she's a robot. So I guess I am entirely sure who she is.

Jen+Lova says:

heya

megan prietzel says:

Hello, who is this?

Jen+Lova says:

hello to you too

megan prietzel says:

You don't know who I am.

I mean it's possible, but I doubt it.

Jen+Lova says:

Hey hun, How ru doing today? Wanna chat for a little ?!? Im bored and wanted to meet new people... 

megan prietzel says:

Ooooh I see. This is a spam bot. I GET YOU NOW.

Jen+Lova says:

nah, I am a vegetarian... no spam for me! haha

megan prietzel says:

Oh okay, so you're a spam bot that automatically sends a negative response whenever I type the word "spam."

Jen+Lova says:

a what?

megan prietzel says:

SPAM

SPAMMY SPAM SPAM

Jen+Lova says:

Cool... Well, I am Jenny Im originally from S.Florida... Let me ask you a question?

megan prietzel says:

Okay, but first let me ask you one. Is it fulfilling, being a spam bot? I mean, do you get a sense of accomplishment from your work?

I once considered being a spam bot, however I'm not a robot.

It was a poor career choice.

Jen+Lova says:

bot? like a robot? lol

megan prietzel says:

Yes, like your people, Jenny from South Florida.

Jen+Lova says:

i LOVE florida, my best friend Becky lives in Boca Raton, I visit down there all the time

megan prietzel says:

I've been to Florida twice, but I was quite disappointed by the lack of wild alligators roaming the streets.

Jen+Lova says:

Which kinda women u in to ? r u in to NICE TITS or a NICE APPLE BOTTOM ?

 :)

megan prietzel says:

Well, as a heterosexual female, I'm not really into any women, regardless of their varying physical assets. I AM however, into alligators. Why did I not see more alligators, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:

yes im real

megan prietzel says:

Ah, well that settles it then. You MUST be real.

Jen+Lova says:

good question, huh? lol.. I have a lot of both!! :) would u like to see? I have some free time now... 

megan prietzel says:

A lot of alligators? Or a lot of physical assets? I'd be very interested in seeing the alligators. Could you please email me some photos of said alligators? And could you please name one Pixie McGillus for me? And could you tell her she's the prettiest alligator of them all?

Jen+Lova says:

pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/im the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:

Oh, I don't mind if the photos are old school. Alligators do well in all types of photography genres, I think. Very timeless, alligators. 

Jen+Lova says:

pics are old skool hehe, i like to do cam 2 cam :) i'm online right now http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/im the main girl u see there, type to me on the right hand side of my video

megan prietzel says:

Oh, I think you resent that, robot.

I MEAN DEFINITELY REAL GIRL.

Jen+Lova says:

i dont think so

megan prietzel says:

...I think you did. In fact I can see that you did.

You definitely did, Jenna.

Jen+Lova says:

Yay... let me set up my cam n u can watch me shake my booty!! LOL.. brb 

megan prietzel says:

I'm starting to suspect that you're not from South Florida AT ALL.

Jen+Lova says:

Ok! Click here http://www.reddit.com/tb/y90pm/and we'll have a PRIVATE 1on1 chat..There's plenty pix of me in there, if you like click the "join free" on top, then register and it'll take you straight to my webcam, I'll be there in a minute.. :)

megan prietzel says:

Is Booty the name of one of your alligators?

Jen+Lova says:

jennifer is my real name but all my friends call me jenny

megan prietzel says:

Hey Jennifer, I'm totally online on your website thing. SHOW ME THE GATORS.

Jen+Lova says:

hey whats up sweetie?

megan prietzel says:

You know, I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but you're so disjointed that I'm starting to think you don't really know what's going on.

Like you're distracted, or something.

Jen+Lova says:

It might say that im offline, just start signing up.. im getting on now.. 

megan prietzel says:

Oh, oh so you're NOT online?

Wait, I thought you were DEFINITELY online.

I thought we were going to do this alligator thing. Am I being had, Jenny?

Jen+Lova says:

There is no charge to sign up, but its gonna ask you for your credit card. Im wearing almost nothing and I dont want any kids watching me!! lol.. 

megan prietzel says:

All I have to do to verify my age is give you all my credit card information? Sounds legit.

Jen+Lova says:

Once you've completed that, it'll automatically redirect you to my webcam page.. u better give me some "gold" when you're on the site lol..it's like a flirt and I'd love some from you ..k? :)

megan prietzel says:

Okay I'm a little stuck. Should I also include my social security number, just to make ABSOLUTELY sure that I'm not under 18?

Jen+Lova says:

24/f/Houston

megan prietzel says:

I THOUGHT YOU WERE FROM FLORIDA.

I don't know what to believe anymore. 

Jen+Lova says: 

k u in?

megan prietzel says:

...Well I guess so. I must admit, my faith in you is a little shaken, but as you now have my credit card information and my social security number, who can I trust if not you, right? LOL.

Jen+Lova says:

my cell is 206-222-1648, please dont give that out! lol

megan prietzel says:

I'm totally posting this to my blog, you know.

JESSICA, WHERE DID YOU GO?

I mean, Jennifer.

Jenny.

Whatever.

...There are no alligators, are there?

I never did get to see Pixie McGillus. But I am now fighting the irrational urge to call that number and continue on our conversation about alligators. I could be like, "Oh yeah, no really, I TOTALLY want to see your apple bottom, but first answer me this: do alligators really live in sewers, or is that just an urban legend?"

Mostly I can't choose a team. I'm leaning toward unicorns because they sparkle.

I bought this book called Zombies VS. Unicorns.  And when I say "I bought" I mean "someone in my family gave me a gift card to Barnes and Noble" and when I say "someone in my family" I mean "I can't remember who."

So, yeah, hey family.  I'm totally grateful for your gifts that enable me to buy zombie-unicorn books.

Note the bird-man on top.  Trivia: it's actually a poorly drawn zombie being eaten by a bird.  Awesome.

That is what this book looks like.  Only better.  And...more realistic.  Although I don't know how that's possible, because it would appear that my MS Paint skills have only improved with time.

OMG FINE.  Here.  Click this link.  I HOPE YOU'RE SATISFIED.

Anyway, I was at Barnes and Noble with my boyfriend, just spending the crap out of all my unused Christmas gift cards when suddenly, a shiny black cover gleamed from the recesses of the "Paranormal Teen Novel Fantasy Whatever" section.  Being who I am, I instantly screamed "ZOMBIES VERSUS UNICORNS!!!" I then brushed my fingers lovingly across the cover and whispered solemnly and with all the reverence I could muster, "I must have this."

The great thing about my boyfriend is that he just expects things like this.

When I showed my step-dad he rolled his eyes and said, "Well at least you didn't waste your money," and I was like "I know!  What a buy, right?!" and he rolled his eyes again.  In retrospect, I think he may believe I've wasted my money.

Anyway, I thought this book would be the best purchase I've ever made in my life, and in some ways I was right.  In others...I was so, so wrong.  The book is basically a collection of short stories from various authors on two opposing teams.  I've enjoyed most of the stories so far.  However, there has been bestiality, homosexual naked special hugs, and curse words.  The BAD kind of curse words. 

I'm a prude.  I don't swear.  I'm easily shocked.  But this book is about zombies and unicorns!  It was MADE for me!  But it's so SHOCKING.  But some of the stories are SO GOOD.  But THE PARTIAL NUDITY.

I don't know what to believe anymore.

I think I'll just go get a hot dog.

I should just live in Costco

The other day I was in Costco (again, because everything happens to me in Costco, for some reason) (I think Costco should really pay me for all the times I've mentioned them on this blog) (well, I'm not materialistic.  I'll settle for their support in my bid for Supreme Dictator of the State of Utah) (or they could give me a gift card.  I'd like that too.)

What?

Anyway, I was in Costco.  I had to go to the pharmacy because my body suffers from a little thing I like to call "complete inability to function and be not-dumb" and I was pretty sure this was the correct Costco, the one where I fill all my prescriptions.  Except no it was not and being me, the only person in the history of the world to forget where her house is after living there for five years, I turned up at the wrong Costco.  BUT NEVER FEAR, said the pharmacy woman after I had waited a mere 30 minutes behind an old lady who kept hacking loudly and apologetically muttering, "Sorry, must be a tickle...I'm not sick...it's a...tickle" to no one in particular, as if all of us in line were keeping our distance based on her coughing and as soon as she explained the reasons behind it we would be like well that's a relief and hug her forever.

So the pharmacy woman was like KAY WE'RE JUST GONNA TRANSFER YOUR MEDICINE and I was like...um...kay.  Because in my mind she was saying that she was going to physically transfer my medicine from the other pharmacy to this one and I was trying to figure out the logistics but as it turns out I was, in fact, at another pharmacy where they also have medication on hand. I had to wait 20 minutes and in that time I basically ran around Costco like a woman possessed because why not, that's why.  I was like, "You can't throw me out, Costco!  I have my mother's membership card with me!  And I've written about you like FOUR TIMES.  And that's just so far!"

25 minutes later I was standing in an aisle seriously considering purchasing a collection of John Wayne movies even though I don't like westerns.  Such is the power of Costco.  Then I remembered that oh!  Yeah!  Prescription.  And I ran over to the pharmacy just in time to watch my pharmacy woman walk out with her lunch and I was like "HI WHAT ABOUT MY MEDS, LADY.  THIS BLOODSTREAM AIN'T GONNA MEDICATE ITSELF" but she just ignored me and went on her break.  So I stood awkwardly, trying very hard to both make eye contact with the other pharmacists and NOT make eye contact with the other pharmacists because I don't know how to handle myself in adult situations.  And so I waited for another 10 minutes.  And that's when I met a man.

He was walking around, muttering with a smile on his face, and every once in a while he would walk up to someone waiting in line and start a loud, apparently hilarious conversation with them.  Then he would walk away, shaking his head and laughing, and resume his muttering and pacing.  Then came the time when he decided to talk to me.  I didn't mind.  I like people.  Years of being socially inept have taught me to just embrace the awkwardness and I'm very good at it.

The man walked up to me.  His hair was sticking up at odd angles.  He was old enough to be my father.  One of his shoes was untied and his shirt was only half tucked in.

Man:  Well hey there!  How ya doin'?
Me:  I'm great, thanks!
Man:  You sure do look great, I'll tell ya that!
Me:  Why thank you!
Man:  My wife left me when I got this.
Me:  When you got...what?
Man:  Alzheimer's.

He stared at me very seriously as I choked on my own tongue.  I literally squeaked and sputtered as my brain ground to a stop and was like "Sorry, you're on your own with this one."  The man stared at me solemnly for about twenty seconds while I tried desperately to regain the function of my mind and say something appropriate.  I have never been rendered so utterly and unexpectedly speechless in my life.  But then everything was suddenly okay as he picked up the conversation, jubilant.

Man:  SO I GOT MYSELF A NEW ONE!
Me:  A...new...huh?
Man:  I got a new wife.  She's from Bulgaria.  Also, she's a rocket scientist.  That's what she does. Welp, bye!

And then I watched him walk away and I didn't know whether to laugh or not, but then I did because honestly?  I don't even have Alzheimer's and I will probably never marry a Bulgarian rocket scientist.  This guy's got me beat.  FOREVER.  Besides, he just seemed like the kind of man who would want me to laugh about it. 

I kind of wondered, then, whether or not I should have called someone.  Should this man be at Costco by himself?  Where's his Bulgarian rocket scientist?  How long until he trips on his untied shoelace?  But then he was gone, having done his job and done it well.

I think I'll just move into Costco.

MORE STATII!

I'm going to Florida on vacation for a few days.  On a scale of one to ten, how jelly are you?  (Not the fruit kind.  The jealous kind.)  It's 8, right?  I thought it would be.

Anyway, here is something to prove that I am still a living human being while I am gone!  Facebook Statii part deux.  Since I will be in an airplane and at the airport tomorrow, perhaps some crazy mishaps will result in another traveling story!  Or maybe I'll just finish the first one...YOU NEVER KNOW.  Miracles do happen, people. 

 

-A bee flew into my room. It is banging against the window, unable to find the open half. What an idiot. However, I now have to decide whether it is more important to protect my room from the pouring rain or get the killer death insect outside. I'll probably just end up falling asleep.

-Don't pretend like you never wanted to be a marine biologist. Every kid wanted to be a marine biologist.

-When I die I want you guys to cremate me. Then shove my remains into a bunch of shotgun shells and use me to fight crime. Okay? Either that, or I want to be made into a firework.

-My problem is that I don't ever want to go to bed. And then I don't ever want to get out of bed. So....

-The surest way to get me to touch something expensive or fragile is to put a "do not touch" sign up.

-I cannot sleep because my brain is pissed at being awake. Makes sense.

-Ways to impress a hobbit number 14: climb over things.

-Looking at the Super Moon:
"Wow that is super bright"
"JIMMER GET DOWN FROM THERE!"

-Sprite and Costco cookies for everyone!!! #PartyLikeReliefSociety

-Tavia's Words of Wisdom: Obama, please make a law that says people can't call me a freak.

-Tavia: "We can only have three ounces of liquid through airport security. The terrorists have won."
Me: "...Why are they letting the terrorists have one of anything?? Wait, WHY ARE THEY LETTING THE TERRORISTS ON PLANES?!?!"

-I drank a lot of caffeine. Also, I'm getting married. Please RSVP so that I know how many chicken nuggets to order for the reception.

-My finger is stuck in the plastic wrap part that is supposed to go around the chapstick lid. Huh. Didn't expect that.

-I am unabashedly and somewhat disturbingly interested in all of your relationships.

-NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME. EXCEPT FOR FRODO. But he's a whiny brat, so that's disheartening.

-I would never PURPOSELY jump out my window, but if it ever happened accidentally then I bet Hayward would feel bad and he would kiss me. So if it ever happens on accident and I don't die, I have something to look forward to.

-I ate like 20 gummy bear vitamins. Am I going to die?

-I have elbows.

-Mentally reviewing my debilitating list of embarrassing moments. They're all just as humiliating in retrospect.

-I don't even know what that means but I disagree completely.

-Girl just knocked on my door:
Girl: I have a presentation.
Me: ...Okay.
Girl: (Talks about cellular respiration and photosynthesis for ten minutes using a chart filled with complicated illustrations.)
Me: Oh. Awesome.
Girl: Okay. Have a nice day.
Me: ...Kay bye.

-It takes talent to so thoroughly deny the obvious. And let me tell you, I am talented.

-I like to say things, especially if I haven't thought about them first.

-Tavia: "Is this a remix?"
Me: "I don't know I'm watching a video of a dog taking a bath."

-It's like speaking to a brick wall. Or a small child. A very young wall made of bricks and children.

-I want to be inside your personal space.

-Tavia's Words of Wisdom: "You can buy a flamethrower for 230 dollars. Actually, 229.99."

-I wish Facebook was more specific: "Sarah is now friends with Mary because she wants to go through all of Mary's pictures and convince herself that Nick is crazy to date her because Mary is totally not that hot."

-Never look up symptoms online. So far I've found that I have Swine Flu, breast cancer, Lyme Disease, and a cerebrospinal fluid leak.

-I am singing the pokemon theme song VERY passionately. This feels right.

-I resisted the urge to buy chocolate at the vending machine for 25 minutes. I decided to reward myself for my perseverance by buying myself two chocolate bars at the vending machine. I'm teaching myself self-control with positive reinforcement.

-I fail at consistency so much that sometimes I even win at consistency.

-Furiously trying to memorize the Pokemon Rap. I'm pretty sure this is a sign that I need a hobby.

-Just googled nine times seven. I'm a sad excuse for a human being.

-Oh you're sorry? We'll see how sorry you really are. Give me your monetary resources.

-I have serious issues with this whole "keeping FAQ/ABOUT/CONTACT" pages current. I'm going to post the words "Salami makes people happy" on all of those pages and call it good.

-I'm rooting for you, really. It's just that your failure is really funny.

-The bottom of my bowl says it's not microwave safe. Whatever, bowl, you don't own me.

-What I should be doing: writing a rhetorical analysis paper. What I am doing: taking a quiz to find out which mythical creature I am. Oh boy!

-I wish I were half as deep as everyone else thinks they are.

-Coke for breakfast. But it's okay because it's caffeine free coke, so basically it's like juice.

-Sometimes my brain says to me "Hey, you're never going to be successful if you don't actually post on your blog" and I say "Well, brain, if you weren't so easily distracted..." and my brain says "SILENCE! Let's think about space pirates" and I'm all "THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT."

-I bought juice. I cannot open the juice. Conspiracy.

-If you like free food, you should read my blog. I'm not really giving away free food, but I like free food too, so I assume we have something in common.

-September resolution: have eyelashes and fingernails. DONE. I'm freakin' accomplished.

-"Do you remember me?! I haven't seen you since you were a baby!" ...Of course I remember you. Good thing I was a super intelligent memory advanced baby or you would look really stupid right now.

-Sometimes I look back and I'm all "...oh dang. In retrospect, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Oh well. I wonder if we have dinosaur chicken nuggets in the freezer."

-New law: if you find any gold, it's mine.

-Nothing feels better than showering after a week of camping. Except maybe showering after two weeks of camping, but I'll never know because I would NEVER go camping for two weeks.

-I love posting my most personal, emotional struggles on facebook. It's very private, kind of like a virtual diary! And the best part is it's only accessible to 686 friends!

-The perfect Ramen isn't made on a stove. It's made in your heart.

-A friend of mine informed me that my status updates make me seem weird. If the only thing that makes me seem weird are my status updates, I think I'm doing pretty well.

-Google has a sad lack of scorpion puns. I checked.

-My life is exactly like a romantic comedy, except without the romance, or the comedy parts.

-I've worked out TWICE in a row. I had better wake up smokin' hot tomorrow, or SO HELP ME...

-A psycho stalker AND freezing rain? Oh boy, Christmas has come early this year!

-My shampoo spells amazing. I think it's made out of fairies.

-You know when you finish a project, and you spent a ton of time on it, and you're super proud, and then you show people and you're all "LOOK HOW AWESOME" and they're all "yeah cool" but they don't really care because it's not their project, and then you're all "whatever, screw you guys"? Well yeah. Screw you guys, this project is the bomb-tastic.

-Apparently her name is K-e-dollarsign-h-a, not K-dollarsign-s-h-a. Sorry, girl. The procunciation of the dollarsign throws me off.

-If I could punch pop culture in the eye, I would. And then I would hug it and tell it I was sorry, but I wouldn't mean it, and I'd probably get drunk the next night and punch it again. Because that's how I feel about pop culture.

-I almost punched him in the mouth with my brain. But I didn't, because the Jedi believe in peace.

-Oh Elton John. I wish you were here. You'd know what to do.

-My thought process goes from "man I should be doing homework" to "How many internet contests would I have to win in order to get Obama to make a guest appearance on my blog?"

-I know I'm full...I mean really full...but there's cake and I'm bored.

Anonymous is back!

I received this LOVELY comment on this post (which I find strangely ironic.  It's like anonymous is going for the gold!)

"dude, f*** this blog. I Mean Everything about This blog sucks Hardcore And Nobody, no One, Likes you."

First of all, why is grammar such a big problem for this person?  It's getting predictable.  I don't know who Nobody is, or who One is, but I'm assuming they are people because I don't know why else they would be capitalized.  Unless this comment is a cleverly worded code.  It's like a game!  An insert-your-own-punctuation-marks-game!

"...dude, f*** this blog.  I.  Mean.  Everything about.  This blog sucks.  Hardcore.  And.  Nobody, no.  One,.  Likes you."

When you read it that way, it's much nicer.

Secondly, people like me.  My mom likes me.  My mom loves me.  So take that, anonymous.  I think we can both agree that you stand CORRECTED, my friend.

I'm assuming this is your response to my offer to hug you.  I'm sorry.  Maybe you don't like close personal contact. I can see that we're going to continue to have problems, you and I.  In the future, please send all complaints to my house handwritten on 4x6 colored cards.  Fuchsia is preferable, but not required.  If you can name all the countries in Africa, you get bonus points.  Can I borrow your pen?  I left mine in the car.

I love you, anonymous.  I love you so much.

I don't remember if I've told this story already but I had a lot of caffeine so here you go, internet.

I think I may have tweeted about this while it was happening but it's a story that deserves documentation and probably a few pictures but I lost my camera in Colorado while it was happening and so now I don't have a picture of the clown man to prove anything.  I actually think the TSA stole my camera as evidence and then when they figured out that I'm not actually a terrorist, they were too embarrassed to give it back.  TSA, I forgive you, but I really need my camera back because I spent forever hours becoming a photography wizard and by "wizard" I mean "person who is able to turn her camera on and off without causing irreparable damage" so YEAH, TSA.  If you send it back, we'll call it good and I won't sue you.  I probably won't sue you anyway, though.  This post is not going to get any more coherent than this, guys.

My Airport Adventure: A Tale of Loss, Achieving my Dreams, and Strange Men Dressed as Clowns in Terminal A (Part One)
By Megan Prietzel

"I wish I could go to Colorado and see BYU in the NCAA tournament," I said.
"We should just go," replied Tavia.
"Okay."

Shortly thereafter, Tavia called her father.  I called my mother.  After a series of phone calls involving massive amounts of whining and promises to be responsible and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE's, Tavia and I headed off to Colorado to support and cheer on our beloved BYU men's basketball team.

We left after our classes and headed to the airport.  I was tingling with excitement and also inexplicable terror because airplanes are incredible.  So incredible that I still refuse to believe that they are real.  How can that much metal fly through the air like that?  IT CAN'T, I TELL YOU.  Except it does.  THUS THE TERROR.  Anyway, we arrived at the airport parking lot.  Rain poured outside the car.  Neither one of us wanted to leave the warm, enveloping comfort of the car's butt warmers, but we had a higher calling that day.  We HAD to get to Colorado.  And I vowed to be an adult that day!  It would be my first airplane ride ever without my mommy.  EVER.  Tavia doubted that I had the capability to act like a functioning member of society for an entire airport visit, but I was going to prove her wrong.  OH BOY, WAS I.

We left the car and lugged our two carry-on bags through puddles and into a little shack to await the airport shuttle.  A very athletic looking woman joined us.  At the time I was not ashamed because I visited the gym regularly.  I am now ashamed.  Anyway.  The shuttle arrived and Tavia and I boarded, ready for our adventure.  I sat on that crowded, damp bus with a grin on my face and I suppressed every urge to start singing "WE WE WE SO EXCITED!  WE SO EXCITED!" because I was a freaking adult, everybody, complete with a real suitcase and a living person who was not my mom.  It was to be the dawn of a new age.

We entered the airport.  I could feel the magic of modern transportation at work around me, a magic that I was about to take part in.  Unfortunately, I have this problem. 

I am not the kind of person who copes well with new and unusual situations.  Especially situations where something is expected of me, say like in a long line of rushing people in which I am expected to take off my shoes and fill a tub with all of my things as quickly as possible.  Tavia is one of those capable people.  She orders pizza on the phone because she doesn't mind talking to a person and telling him or her that she wants pepperoni.  Her face doesn't burn bright red and her palms don't sweat and she doesn't start mumbling awkward sentences that sounded better in her head.  That is why I desperately needed her.

We got in the airport security line thing.  Tavia calmly removed her shoes and placed them in a plastic tub, along with her jacket and belt.  She took a second tub and put her phone and laptop inside.  Then she set them both on a conveyor belt with ease, followed by her suitcase.  Meanwhile, my brain was going insane for no particular reason.

I am going to have to take off my shoes.  What if I forget how to do that?  What if I accidentally take off my pants instead?  I WILL LOOK LIKE SUCH AN IDIOT.  Oh my gosh.  The people behind me are probably wondering why I don't have a plastic tub.  Okay, so I um, grab this tub thing and um...put my shoes in it?  Is that right?  PANTS?  TAVIA SHOULD I PUT MY PANTS IN IT?  NO! No, Megan, get it together.  Okay now set the tub on the movey-belty thing.  WTFFF I need a SECOND TUB??  Oh dear heaven above.  Okay uh...for my laptop?  But my laptop is in my backpack...no no it's cool.  I can do this.  Man, this zipper is really difficult to open when my palms are this sweaty.  IS EVERYONE LOOKING AT ME?  Everyone is looking at me. I can't handle this pressure.  IF I DO NOT GET THIS BACKPACK OPEN EVERYONE WILL DIE.  Oh, I am truly blessed, it opened and I didn't drop my laptop.  Okay, well now I just want everyone to stop looking at me.  I can tell they're looking at me, even though they appear to be paying no attention at all. I'm gonna go ahead and toss the rest of my stuff in there as quickly as possible.  And now it's all falling out of the tub.  Um.  I'll just put my backpack on top...Yeah that works.  OH MY now I have to lift my suitcase and put it on the conveyor thing??  IS MY FOREHEAD SWEATING THAT MUCH, OR AM I IMAGINING THIS??  I bet the security guy thinks I'm a terrorist because I'm sweating so much.  I'm not, security guy.  I'm just incapable of performing simple tasks with an audience.  Oh no.  I can't lift this suitcase.  I CAN'T DO IT I CAN'T DO IT I CA-oh hey, I did it.  Kind of crooked...oh now it's stuck inside the scanning machine.  I AM SUCH AN EMBARRASSMENT TO MY RACE.

Needless to say, my inner monologue did not help my awkward fear when, after successfully passing through the metal detector like a champ, the security man stopped me because he found something suspicious in his magical x-ray machine. 

I knew it.  He thinks I'm a terrorist.  Or a drug dealer!  I'm not though!  ...Right?  AM I?  DID I BECOME A DRUG DEALER AND FORGET ABOUT IT?  Just arrest me now, security man, I'll admit to anything.  YES, IT'S MY COCAINE.  AND MY GUN.  ALSO MY PANTS, I THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO REMOVE THEM.

As it turned out I was not a drug dealer and actually the woman behind me had too much lotion in her carry on but the security man thought it was my bag and so I suffered a small heart attack.  

After my face faded from bright red to its usual pasty white, Tavia and I decided to get something to eat.  I felt as though Burger King was the only food I could want, mainly because we passed it on the way to the airport and I was starving and unable to actually consider my dining options.  So Tavia and I sat at a table and waited for our food after ordering.  Because I was convinced that my hunger was insatiable, I ordered the largest sized combo, which meant a beverage the approximate size and shape of my head.  I filled it with Coke and headed over to sit with Tavia.  I then promptly dropped the bucket of Coke right next to my chair and also kind of on my chair.  Tavia stared at me for a moment before sighing and admitting that she should have known this would happen, and yeah, she sort of should have because she lived with me and THIS WAS A NORMAL OCCURRENCE. 

I walked over to a nice little old lady who was mopping the floor and asked her to please clean up my mess.  Just then my food was ready.  Tavia and I sat and ate our fries and chicken nuggets as a sweet, elderly woman quietly mopped the floor around my feet.  It was easily one of the most terrible moments of my life.  I'll give you a moment to picture this.  Keep in mind that all the surrounding tables were occupied by people who were staring and felt just as awkward as I did.  Also keep in mind that I had tried to mop up the Coke with three forests' worth of napkins which did almost nothing but make a soggy brown mess that dripped all the way to the trash can and covered me in sticky soda.  Ready?  Got the horrible mental image?  Good.  Now hold it there for ten minutes and try to enjoy your chicken nuggets.  YOU CAN'T.

After that disaster, Tavia decided it would be best just to go sit in our terminal and wait for the plane to board.  As we sat in the terminal we saw a strange man.  He had gone through airport security near us and we were mildly amused to see him n our terminal.  He wore bright red overalls.  His hair was a huge tangle of orange-brown curls.  His shoes were distinctly clown-like.  He carried an assortment of entertainments: bowling pins, rubber balls, batons, and the like.  While we watched, he practiced juggling his bowling pins and unfortunately, he was not very good at it.  He also got very angry with himself every time he dropped a bowling pin and I couldn't help but sympathize.  I watched the clown man for half an hour before the effect of my bucket of Coke kicked in and I left to use the bathroom.  As I walked back, I passed clown man.

"Hey there, pretty girl!" he said brightly.
"Oh, um, hi," I stammered back, surprised to be addressed.
"You dropped something back there"
I turned and looked at the ground, mentally kicking myself for losing my pants or something.  I didn't see anything.  Confused, I asked, "Um, what did I drop?"
"You dropped," here he paused and smiled coyly, "your smile."
"Ah, my smile.  Yes.  Ah.  I'll just...pick it up..and...wear...it..." My mumbling degenerated quickly.  Clown man appeared to be about 20.  Clown man appeared to be talking to me.  CLOWN MAN APPEARED TO BE WINKING AT ME.  I desperately wished that I had anything, anything at all to say about my dropped smile.  Instead, I shuffled awkwardly away, intensely aware of the fact that he was still looking at me. 

He started juggling rubber balls.  I started wondering what the appropriate reaction to this situation would be.  Rebecca Black would not get out of my head.

The epic tale will continue in PART TWO, in which the TSA decided that my ponytail was a threat to national security.