And the winner of the blonde travel faux-paux award goes to…

So a couple weeks ago we can recall my asking a seemingly average looking man who turned out to be a custom’s official to light my Cuban Cohiba Cigarillo. I believe I topped that experience today with the help of a gay flight attendant threatening to arrest me during the first leg of my flight home today.

I worship the L’Occitane’s Immortelle Cream Mask for flying as it’s a very thick creamy base and putting it on before (or during) a flight can prevent the haggard appearance one might acquire from being thousands of feet higher in the air than god had intended. You know the look: sunken eye sockets, porous skin, dryness and overall dead looking skin. Not that it’s a major issue because you’ve just flown but who DOESN’T want to look as fabulous as a Virgin Atlantic stewardess getting off a trans-atlantic flight yet ready for the photo shoot of her life.

So yeah, this little cream moisturizing mask is amazing! Just about a “thick” quarter’s worth is all you need to cover your face and neck. I stopped bringing the actual canister with me because it was heavy and bulky and started requesting the samples every time I passed a store since they have more than enough to spare. Well the sample size is like most “cosmetic” sample sizes, a little piece of plastic containing a few servings of the product. It tucks very nicely into the pocket of my backpack carry on and is easily accessible.

With our delightful new flight restrictions no gels, creams, liquids or any such family are allowed on board. Imagine my completely innocent mistake of forgetting to unpack it from my backpack. OK, no need to imagine it’s a pretty simple concept.

Well after we took off and had our snack I felt slightly boxed in by my row-mate and decided to just apply the cream at my seat. Usually I go to the bathroom to put it on in a mirror so no embarrassing white streaks are left behind. I was applying the luxuriously thick and hydrating cream when I heard (not to pull a Kathy Griffin) the gay inhale. You know which one I was talking about.

I turned to face my accuser:

“What, do I have a streak on my nose or something?”
“Do you realize you are a terrorist THREAT right now?” in a hushed overly dramatic raspy voice that only I could hear because my row mate was too busy listening to a presentation being read to him.
“Uhhhhhhh … it’s moisturizer.”
“I can have you arrested for this, give it to me immediately.”

I begrudgingly handed over my little sample size that had only been used one or two times and continued to rub the cream into my face.

“Do I have to go through the rest of your luggage?”
I rolled my eyes and went back to the computer.
Something tells me I should have flirted back with the little queen when he tried to flirt with me asking for ID while pouring my cocktail. Eh, whatever. With any luck L’Occitane will feel the economic crunch of no sales in their airport stores so bad that they universally lower their prices. A girl can dream can’t she?