(re-run)
I am retired, two years away from the big 7-0, flying for the second time in two months, a record for me. Traveler’s Tip: Don’t fly in the summer if you can help it. EVERYONE is flying, and the weather across the U.S. can be bad and will delay your flight.
My daughter drove me to the airport at 6:00 a.m. for my flight departing at 8:50. We got to SF in exactly one hour, and I used the curb check-in for my big suitcase.
“Is it really better to do it this way?” an older woman behind me asked.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s way easier than going inside.”
“Does it cost anything?” she asked.
“No, but I give the guy $5.00 for one bag.”
The couple stayed in the line, and my bag was the last on on the big suitcase cart.
“I’ll be back in two minutes,” the sky cap said, pushing the cart inside.
Once I entered the airport, I was amazed at the chaos: people lining up to check in, others standing in the way, not knowing what to do. I headed down the way for the security check-in, and the line wasn’t too bad yet.
I took off my belt, boots, jacket, purse, took my laptop out of my carry-on bag and was good to go. A guy kept blowing his whistle and pointing at me. My cell phone was still in my back pocket.
I walked through the metal detector, not the big whole-body scan machine thing-ie, and collected my stuff. Then I went off to find Gate 3, which was super close. I settled in with my book, and some guy in a suit stood over me, talking to another guy on the other side of a strap barricade. I collected my stuff and moved away from them, stopping in the bathroom first.
We took off nearly 45 minutes late. That made my connecting flight in a completely different terminal a 22-minute race to win. A family of six was not letting me out of my row since they were also in a hurry, but I pushed my way past my two young-guy seatmates until I was in the aisle, and I wiggled my carry-on out of the overhead bin and plopped it down right in the middle of those grandparents with four grandchildren. They had been sitting behind me, after all. You’re not supposed to block the aisle like that.
I took all the walking treadmill thingies while also walking. I ran (as fast as someone my age can run) down the B terminal. I asked a maintenance dude how to get to terminal A. He didn’t know. I asked a vendor and she said without looking at me, “Take the escalator down to the train and take the train to Terminal A.”
Wow! Denver Airport is insanely big. I pushed my way past clueless people and got to the gate, only to discover that the second flight was also delayed.
The kid next to me on the second flight said he went to Grinnell College.
“I’ve heard good things about that school,” I said. “They have a good writing program.”
“Yeah, we don’t really do that anymore,” he said. “We do comp sci and other stuff.”
I was talking about creative writing.
GAWD, I feel old.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 