Terminally Dehydrated

I've closed dozens of bars in my life. Friday morning, I opened my first airport.

Thanks to the doings of the probable Al-Qaeda operatives in Britain, I was told to arrive at LAX for my 6:05 flight three hours early. One teeny problem with that plan: the airport doesn't open till 4:30. As the result, hundreds of my fellow travelers and I stood outside the United terminal surrounded by our bags, waiting like day-after-Christmas gift returners for the glass doors to open.

The United employees braced for the worst, but they did a great job and the check-in process went surprisingly smoothly. At least it did on the 100K mile line. Thank God, dahling, for frequent flier status. While I did I hear some grumbling from the commoners on their endless line, the most memorable complaint came while queing for McDonald's, the only establishment open at 5 am. Marvin, the owner of several shoeshine stands in Terminal 7, would've made a killing this morning.

Standing in front of a mother and daughter-in-law duo, I heard the older woman curse. I didn't have to wait long for the source of her bitterness. "Was it expensive perfume?" her son's wife asked.

"Hell, yes!" the in-law responded. "I bought it in Vegas!" Nothing was said for a moment, as I futilely tried to get a look at this classy tag team. Finally, the daughter-in-law broke the silence.

"Well...the news report last night did say, 'No liquids of any --" The older woman cut her off immediately.

"Perfume isn't a liquid. It's a scent!" I stifled a cough. Guess that made her scent - and sense - less.

At the McDonald's counter, big signs on every register informed travelers that no beverages of any kind are allowed on board any flight. (Similar to last call at a bar, actually: Drink 'em up and put 'em down, cause you can't take 'em with you!) President Bush authorized the TSA to ban the drinks out of concern that terrorists might still be able to turn the seemingly innocuous liquids into a bomb while in the air. I applauded this decision. Interestingly, passengers were still allowed to bring unlimited numbers of cardiac bombs - a single Sausage McGriddle with hash browns has 31 grams of fat - on board.

Once in the air, I was surprised to see flight attendants pushing their drink carts down the aisle. This puzzled me. Why couldn't suicide bombers use those drinks to create a makeshift explosive on board just as easily as they could have utilized beverages purchased in the terminal? This potentially unnerving thought was overridden, however, by another one more relevant to my life: why the hell do I ever fly American Airlines???!!! For years, friends have touted American's clear superiority, but the sight of a Diet Coke can being handed to the woman across the United aisle refuted that claim. Unlike the soda Nazis at AA, United still gives you the full can, as opposed to only handing you the four-ounce cup like a mother determining how much her child can handle. (Plus, United gives you head phones for free, whereas American charges two bucks.) Considering that this zero-drink-carry-on rule will remain in effect indefinitely, United's providing the entire tomato juice can gives it a wing up on its biggest competitor.

And that's important when you're a frequent flier who likes to close bars.