I love airports, but hate to fly! I have been in many airports traveling for work too much but not much for pleasure. Funny thing about airports is the strange people you can see milling around. The first time I can remember flying was too Hawaii. The thing I remember most was looking out the window and thinking we were going to crash into the ocean. The airport was beautiful for an airport. Native women with lei's milled around waiting to drape flowers over departing travellers necks. The air was intoxicating with the scent of flowers. This was a perfect first flight.
The next trip I can remember was a trip to Europe. The longest flight ever!!! And overnight on a plane. I cannot sleep on planes, whether it is the excitement of the travel and getting to a new location or maybe it is the fact that I am trapped with a bunch of whining, snoring cough germ carriers that makes sleep impossible. It could also be that I have no luck and am usually trapped between two very large, smelly people or with chatty ken/cathy. Anyway the flight to Europe started in Reno, and the deplaned in Denver. Denver is the worst airport ever. They were doing construction (and I believe they still are, 20 years later) so it was a mass of confusion and dust. 30 teenagers and 5 teachers trying to navigate this and get to a gate on the other side of this mess was near impossible. But we did see some crazies along the way. This was before the time of security and no one in the terminals but the passenger. There were Hari Krishnas in their orange robes, guitar players strumming for spare change, people rushing, children crying...It was exciting.
However, as I became an adult, these things turned into annoyances and somethings quite frightening. My first flight to New York was for work. I took a 5 hour flight from Orange County to Newark airport. I had been advised by a friend not to make eye contact with people in the airport. That sounded ominous! However when I got off the plane and went down to meet my friend in baggage claim I was confronted with a massive amount of people. Most were in such a hurry they didnt notice me, but as I got closer to the sliding glass doors to the outside world I notice about 50 large men standing around in black suits. Some were holding signs with names, others were just milling about. As I walked closer to get to the doors, I must have looked one in the eye because before I could blink one of the characters from the Soprano's was at my side. "So how yo doin?" he asked....The accent was so think I began to think I had entered another country! I replied that I was fine and kept walking. "So a preddy goil like yo, must need a ride somewheres, right?" he pondered... I said no, I was meeting someone...But that didnt deter this wiseguy... He just kept on... He better be worth it, you are so pretty you need a proper ride... This was bordering on dirty! I was never so glad to see my friend show up!!! I think I must have almost choked him with the hug I gave him!! I realized then always to heed warnings of making eye contact!!
My latest foray into airports came last night. I went to pick someone up at LAX. Since my passenger, Chiquita, was an older woman who has a broken arm, I knew I was going to have to park. I drove up to LA, entered the airport parking lot and was stuck... Sitting behind idiots who should not be driving. They either did not understand the little PRND12 on the gear shift or they were just plain stupid. The car backed out of a parking space and just sat there... Not moving.. Since they were two stalls from the entrance gate, this caused a traffic jam with cars trying to enter the structure and this idiot just sitting there... Finally after about 5 minutes the slow witted parking attendant sauntered over to the car and tapped on the window. I figured, just chalk it up to rude people, move on... I parked in the first spot I could find. Jumped out of the car and started the walk into the baggage claim area. As I tried to enter the sidewalk a large group of people walking the opposite way thought that they deserved the entire sidewalk. Wouldnt even make a space on the side for me to walk through. I kept thinking..Be better than all these people, dont get angry and rude...
So I waited and finally walked to the terminal. Once inside, I went and stood against a wall where I could see my little Chiquita disembark from the terminal. As I waited, I looked around... I noticed several people looking at me. I started to get worried that the carrots I had for dinner were stuck in my teeth or something. One guy a very tall Hasidic jewish man complete with the curls at the sides of his head and black hat kept staring at me.. I could not figure out why. I did a teeth check, nose check.. Nothing he kept staring.. It was starting to get worrisome, but after he finally left. uess I will never learn!! Eye contact again... One of the many drivers waiting with signs near me walked over and told me what beautiful hair I had. I said thanks and quickly looked way. Not 5 minutes later another driver moved closer to me and parked himself on the same wall as I was. Immediately I sprang into action... I grabbed my cell out of my pocket and dialed... But to my dismay I was too far into the underbelly of the terminal and couldnt get a signal. I needed the roaming to kick in and quickly... The driver on the wall turned his head to look at me. Drat... I checked the phone again...Finally roaming! I dialed and started talking to the auntie! Whew saved... I asked if our passenger had called her, because I hadnt seen her and almost everyone was off the plane. And then finally I saw Chiquita! I removed myself from the wall and away from the driver.
I steered her towards baggage claim. Now clearly if people look at her, she is in her late 70's. Still very spry and active, but right now she has a large cast on her arm. She doesnt look feeble, but still a little fragile. We walked over to the crowded conveyor belt and I took a place not standing immediately at the short metal wall, but close to it...There was space for large Samoan man in front of me to swing his bag down from the conveyor without taking out my shins... Chiquita was standing behind me. We were talking and watching bags... I cannot count the times rude people stepped in front of me... Taking my place at the conveyor... I was standing right there... They just walked in front of me... I finally got so fed up with it, I started making snarky comments. When one woman walked in front of me I turned sideways and said to Chiquita "I am sure your bag will be the last one out, but you would certainly have trouble getting any bag out of here with your arm." The woman swung around and looked at Chiquita and immediately moved out of our way. That was my nicest comment... There were a few that I know Chiquita couldnt hear that I spoke to the back of people's heads... We finally got her bag. It was one of the last ones out and was so HEAVY! And old so the wheels were on the end of a normal suitcase and the handle was about 4 inches long. I had to stoop to wheel it out of the place. I wore boots that had heels probably not my best option but as I am clearly struggling with this bag, why do stupid men feel it is appropriate to walk in front of me and look at me as if to speak to me. Do I look like I want to talk to anyone as I struggle with a bag...If you are going to try to hit on me, at least take the flipping bag from me.... One scummy Mexican guy even made lewd suggestions as I was struggling with the bag.. Did the guy think that this would be so attractive that I would drop the bag and just jump on him right then and there??? Give me a break... Sometimes I glad I am single... The next time I go to an airport, it bette be a great vacation!!
