Heed 505

Are you an expert traveler? This was the question asked of me as I cruised through the airport today. I guess I’ve always measured myself an expert. Obviously a good part of my profession includes traveling, mostly on commercial airlines, with an unusual amount of luggage for a solo dude.
 
But, besides having both hands full pulling Ogio bags large enough to carry a small person, I’ve never considered it much of an inconvenience. And when I check-in, despite the huge dimensions of my bags, they always weight-in at exactly 50 pounds, so I’m never subject to an oversize charge. One point expert traveler.
 
As I walk towards the dreaded security checkpoint, somehow there never seems to be that long of a line. And once I’m standing in the queue, I always slide through smoothly, without harassment, unless of course it’s the anniversary of 9/11 or some other sort of wacky “heightened security alert” highlighted by the fear purveyors on television. Another point expert traveler.
 
Upon arrival, I stroll towards baggage claim and more often than not my brightly colored bags are already idling around the carousel belt waiting for me to swoop them. Everything accounted for and in good shape. Final point expert traveler.
 
Really though, the moment that I truly recognized that I’m indeed an expert traveler was today when I saw a sign depicting a crotch-rocket wheeling aimed at those preparing to enter the security checkpoint. Yep, that’s me an expert traveler.