F lying used to be part of the vacation. Now it’s something to be endured till you get to the vacation. We hate to fly due to all the problems, but to drive to Florida takes four days.
My …
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Flying used to be part of the vacation. Now it’s something to be endured till you get to the vacation. We hate to fly due to all the problems, but to drive to Florida takes four days.
My friend’s brother said, “I never fly anymore because there’s always a problem with the flight, constant delays, lost luggage, bad airline personnel and disruptive passengers. I only drive. It’s cheaper, less stressful and much more enjoyable.”
My witty friend replied, “I’ve always hated the drive to Japan, though.”
We have TSA precheck but it doesn’t always work the same in every airport. We aren’t supposed to be forced to take off our sweaters or shoes, but sometimes we are. I can’t tell you how happy Gar is when he has to take his shoes off. We’re spoiled.
I used to wear my glasses around my neck on horsehair Croakies Gar got me as a gift. Once, going through security, I was told to put my glasses on for the X-ray. I guess it was to simply annoy me because it’s never been an issue before or since.
I like to people watch at airports, and recently, as we sat in the airport, I noticed an incredibly thin couple in their early 70s with flat bellies. Slender in America? How weird. They were dressed in Nike shorts and T-shirts, nicely coiffed and healthy looking, standing while the rest of us were sitting. A few minutes later, they were doing deep knee bends, in a continuous motion, in front of God and everybody.
I felt a furrow develop in my forehead. I told myself since they were skinny, I could learn from the experience. Before I dawdled on that ridiculous thought too long, I looked across the aisle to an older gentleman, also thin, but not obnoxious about it.
In fact, he and I were kindred spirits because as he watched the exercising couple, he developed an expression mirroring mine, as if he’d just stepped in a pile of fresh cat puke. Judgy people unite.
As we continued to wait, we were told there was a maintenance issue on our plane. Did the seat become unbolted or did a wing fall off? Nobody was telling. We were sitting in Pensacola so I asked if we could be rebooked from Houston to Denver as it wasn’t looking good for us to make our flight. After an abundance of back and forth, and being informed Albatross Air was out of the question (pity), we were told there were seven of us late for that plane so they’d hold it. Upon finally getting to Houston, we found they did not indeed hold it. Instead, we were rebooked for the late flight to Denver.
There was a young couple sitting beside us who, even though it had been a challenging day, appeared only a tiny bit weary, probably from their two-hour run or an afternoon at the gym. They were coping well, giggling and holding hands, gazing at each other with little red hearts in their googly eyes. I thought Gar and I were making it look easy to be up so late until I saw us in the side chrome of our seats. We appeared to have been on a three-day drunk and had spent the afternoon smoking crack. Gar’s shirttail was untucked and his eyes were bloodshot. Mascara had smudged, there were racoon-like circles under my eyes and the back of my hair was smashed flat to my head. Looking homeless would have been an upgrade.
We got to Denver, where our bags were taking a little nap since they’d made the plane but we hadn’t. How was that possible? Nobody knew. We were being put up in a motel, so the first taxi driver waved us in, but the guy in the second taxi swooped Gar’s bag into his van.
The two drivers came nose to nose in a yelling match, which was a little mesmerizing. Then the driver, while still screaming, took my bag. We got in the vehicle that held our luggage. Who wouldn’t?
The driver got in, then out to yell some more. We watched to see if they’d put up their dukes, but they didn’t. I was a little disappointed. It had been a long day, it was past midnight and we were in a big city.
I turned to Gar and said, “If we die tonight, it’s been a good run, and also bury me wearing my favorite sweatshirt, and with chocolate smeared on my lips so I’ll appear lifelike.”