Would you trust me, Greazy Tony, to protect a model airplane, let along a real one. Here's how it all went down. You know how when you travel you end up seeing the same people over and over again. Even more so when you are a square and you keep seeing the big hulking Italian guy with the tattoos on his arm, and you keep pulling your kids close to you? Well that's what happened last night at BWI when this guy in his 40's kept seeing me. First at the check in, then at the Chinese fast food place and finally in the "B line" to board the plane. Once off the plane I saw this dude again at baggage claim, and then to his surprise we got on the same shuttle to the hotel. I rolled my eyes the whole time he talked to the driver of our van in his broken Spanish, mainly because she was Portuguese and she kept trying to tell him that they aren't as similar as most people think.
Then when we got to the hotel, he and his clan were behind me at the check in. When I asked the lady what time the shuttle left for the airport in the morning, she told me, and I was ready to be on my way. Then this dude taps me on the shoulder and asks me if I am a Federal Air Marshall. What? I ask, and he proceeds to give me his evidence which went something like this. I was alone, I didn't get 'extra attention' at security (mainly because I'm not a douchebag and I know what I can and can not take on a flight) and I didn't make conversation with anyone while waiting for the flight. Then the coup de gras was that I was flying in and then flying right out again. Presto: Air Marshall.
The reason I am going back to the airport is to pick up my rental car so I can make my way though New England for my various tasks, but when some people think they know everything you just can't convince them. I told him that I was not a Air Marshall, and he said, and I'm not joking here: "You probably couldn't tell me even if you were." What an asshat!
Then when I came down for a drink about an hour later the lady behind the desk asked me what I actually do for a living. I told her, and she laughed really hard. She said that the guy kept talking about it after I left the desk, surmising that my tattoo was a good sign that I was ex military (you know because there's an anchor in it) and he's heard that they get those types of guys to be Air Marshalls. Wow! And people tell me that I'm obsessed with being right!