Zaza breezes through the airport

I have officially discovered why it is better to have a man check your bags at the airport. (If you're a girl, that is.)
You see, when I left Antigua, my suitcase was 14.7 kilograms overweight. Normally that would mean a $50 charge. When I checked in at the airport, groggy and tired as it was about 6:00 in the morning, I chatted with the guy behind the counter for a minute. He looked at my tickets and asked if I'd like him to reroute my 4 flights at no extra charge so that I arrived in Seattle 4 hours earlier. Well, of course, I said. Then he proceeded to tell me my bag was overweight but that he would waive the charge this time. He carried it for me to the conveyor belt and wished me a pleasant journey.
I got to Puerto Rico hours later and lugged my suitcase to the security check. I waited nervously while the man behind the counter looked at my ticket and weighed my bag. He gave me a charming smile and told me he wouldn't charge me for the extra weight and would I like it checked all the way to Seattle? Did I need help with directions to my gate?
I got off the plane in Dallas and waited a couple of hours, then flew to Seattle. I spent the night with a friend and then early the next morning went to the airport again. As I lined up to check in, I scanned the people at the desk for someone of the male gender. Not one.... I knew it was coming. The lady who ended up serving me looked at me with one of those don't-mess-with-me looks.
"Your bag is 14.7 kilograms overweight." She said blankly.
"I know." I put on my sweetest smile. "It's because of all the textbooks I have in there."
"Well, that will be $47."
I clasped my heart and tried to look horrified.
"Is there anyway you could waive that?" I asked hopefully.
"Sorry, no." She didn't sound sorry at all.
I handed her my visa card reluctantly.
After I'd paid for my bag, I went to line up to go through security. It was a long line to the first check, and by the time I got to the end of it, I realized suddenly that I couldn't find my passport anywhere.
"I can't find my passport." I said to the uniformed man in a bit of a panic.
"Don't worry, honey, it's around here somewhere."
He led me back to the counter I'd been at and I asked the lady there if she still had my passport.
"I gave it back to you." She said coldly. "And you won't be able to get on the plane without it."
"I know." I said sheepishly. Seriously, how dumb is it to lose your passport in another country?
I looked for ages, and then finally found it in an obscure pocket of my purse, although I have no clue which idiot put it there. I went back to the security line-up, but the man saw me and waved me to come to the front.
"You're going to have to go through a special security check." He explained to me. "The name on your ticket was spelled wrong and the woman who checked you in made a note that you have to go through it. But don't worry, it shouldn't take to long."
He led me down a long hallway, passed the line-ups of hundreds of people waiting to go through. Past all the security machines to a little roped-off area where three officers were waiting, smiling. They put my carry-on luggage through the machine, asked me to take off my shoes, and then searched me efficiently and quickly. They swabbed down all my belongings with some kind of tester device (It's a specialized chemical weapons detector, if you are interested I can explain more) and then handed everything back to me.
"You're good to go!"
Later while I was waiting for my flight a strange woman stopped me in the restrooms.
"Why did you get to skip all the lines and go straight through security?" She demanded, washing her hands in the sink next to me.
"Oh, there was a little misunderstanding." I explained to her about the ticket.
Afterwards I thought about it. One person can make your life very difficult, or one person can make your life very easy. It doesn't cost a lot to give an extra smile or waive a silly fee or help someone find something that's lost, but it can sure be a tremendous blessing.
When I got to Canadian customs in Vancouver, the immigration officer was very friendly and didn't give me any trouble despite the large pieces of coral and bottle of rum I had in my bag. (The fact that he wanted my phone number was totally coincidental.)
I got home safely and am enjoying about three days off before I start studying and working again. I'll be doing a practicum one day a week, and doing assignments to send in the rest of the time, before going back to Antigua in January. I'm not sure what the next two months will hold, but I'm sure they will be full of surprises and adventures, so keep reading Happy Heather's Hullaballoo!