One morning in JFK airport security, I handed the TSA agent my license and a sheet of sudoku puzzles. I know, he was also confused. He looked at both sides of the paper, then asked, “Miss, do you have a boarding pass?” I looked down at the sheet — uh, I guess not. Usually, I print puzzles WITH my boarding pass, but apparently today I only printed puzzles because I live in Candyland.

This scene reminded me of a boarding pass mishap I had a couple years ago. I was flying out of JFK airport, wearing skinny jeans tucked into ankle booties like pencils sitting in their stupid pencil holders. After coming through security I stuffed the 8×11 boarding pass, another 8×11 of puzzles, and my drivers license in the back pocket of jeans that really didn’t even have enough space for a chap stick.

After I got to the gate, I went to the toilets. The moment I de-pantsed I realized that my documentation had just fallen into the bowl. I spun around right in time to activate the auto-flush and watch my government issued ID and boarding pass spiral away from me. I needed to do some reconnaissance asap. The first piece I replaced with a visit to the boarding gate desk. The second would require a trip to the DMW, or my equivalent of “Cheers.” I mis-place my license often enough they save a spot for me in line — Norm!

I got on the plane and did what I always do when I need unconditional positive regard — called my best friend and/or mom.

Me: Hey, remember that time you went to the airport and your license was expired so they did something special for you?

BFF: If by “something special” you mean “sent me home and told me to come back the next day with my passport,” then yes, I remember that.

Me: Oh, well, you see, I just flushed my license down the toilet, and-

BFF: Why?

Me: Not on purpose, it was an accident. I’m worried about getting on a fight back.

BFF: Well, you shouldn’t get on that flight.

Me: Yeah. The thing is I’m already on the plane.

BFF: Well, you should get off that plane.

Me: I don’t know. I’m thinking this is one of those “cross that bridge” when I come to it kind of problems.

BFF: No, it isn’t. You need to get off that plane.

I wasn’t getting the kind of positive regard I needed, plus I was starting to get weird looks from the other passengers.

Me: Ok. I’ll talk to you later.

BFF: No — seriously -

Me: Bye! [click]

Alright, next up.

Me: Hi Mom!

Mom: Oh, hi!