Having been an experienced traveler for years, I feel it is time that someone finally spoke up for the average flyer. The following could be examples that each of us may have encountered in our excursions at the numerous airports across the United States.
First, let me say, I have experienced small airports where the same person checked the luggage, whisked us through security, and fueled the plane. I was going to speak up if she got into the pilot’s seat to fly us to our destination because I knew good and well she could not be in the control tower and fly the plane at the same time, even though I guess she was qualified. Prop plane, assorted passengers consisting of businessmen, farmers, mechanics, and possibly a chicken or two, and soon we were loudly flying to a larger airport where a jet was waiting!
To the other extreme, I have flown into and out of some of the largest airports in the country. Atlanta, Orlando, all have some things in common… hundreds of thousands of people, all waiting until the last minute to get through security. Now, in case you are not aware, you can book your flights online, as opposed to the old-fashioned way of booking through a travel agent. Sidebar… remember how when you were little and the airline commercials would come on television and the planes would look HUGE, and all of the stewardesses, who at that time were all tall, Miss America-looking single women, would be dressed to the nines, smiles pasted on their faces and were there to make your flight a moment to remember forever! All the passengers were dressed in suits, shoes shined, shirts, and blouses were crisply starched… all looking like June and Ward Cleaver. Every child got “wings” pinned to their jackets as they became junior pilots!
Hours before it’s time to travel to the airport, you print your boarding pass to help speed up the process of getting on the plane. You arrive at the airport and spend at least thirty minutes looking for that perfect parking space in the parking deck, so you can be as close to the terminal as possible upon your return home. There’s nothing quite like getting off the plane, dragging your luggage through the airport and parking deck, only to realize you parked on a different level. You keep pressing your car remote, hoping that your car will light up so you can find it without anyone realizing you’ve developed amnesia during your flight and can’t remember where you parked to save your life.
You park, strap all the luggage to the one suitcase you have with wheels and start rolling across the parking deck when you remember that one of the wheels broke on the last flight. So, you are doing a “roll-limp-scrape” on your way to the terminal, all the while leaving that little black scrape mark on the concrete. You chuckle to yourself, thinking of Hansel and Gretel and the breadcrumbs. You can just follow the black marks on your return to find your car. But you notice there are hundreds of black trails, and you are not the only person doing the “suitcase skid” maneuver.
You arrive at the baggage desk, where you start praying that your bags do not weigh over the fifty-pound limit. Now, I have always been lucky… 47 to 49 pounds have been my limit, but I have seen LOTS of women pulling things from their luggage and tossing them in the trash. Not being sexist here, but for some reason, men seem to pack a little lighter. Most of our clothes can be worn inside out if necessary, and sometimes it is that way when we wear it, but we never know until our wives loudly bring it to our attention once a crowd has gathered. We blush but smile and are thankful she cannot see our underwear because you know you flipped it inside out from wearing it yesterday, just to spite her!
Luggage checked in, two small bags, and off to security. This is where the real fun starts. Now, when I fly, I usually have to take a portable office with me. A printer, a computer, files, a digital projector – all necessary for me to continue my job. Needless to say, I am a security nightmare. As I am in line, I am watching the people ahead of me. Yes, I am a people watcher. Sometimes I make up stories about who they are and what their story is, but I will save that for another time. Let me introduce you to a few of my fellow travelers:
There is the light traveler. No baggage, no small travel bags, just the clothes on their back as they race through security. It makes me wonder where they are going and what they will wear once they get there. Maybe they will turn their clothes inside out and stay longer than a couple of days 🙂
There is Mrs. Igotta. Now, Mrs. Igotta got her name due to the fact that she has gotta take her precious dog everywhere she goes. She holds up the line trying to get little “Pookie” to get into his carrier and go through the checkpoint. I probably will never understand why a person would want to take a dog on a plane. You know, you never see a person take a cat. I wonder why… maybe cats are smarter than we think after all.
There is always the family of twelve going to a Disney park, and all of the kids are under the age of 12. Some are kicking, some are screaming, one has his nose in a book. The Mom looks frazzled while Dad is oblivious due to certain medications the doctor has prescribed, knowing that Dad would be going to Disney with the family.
Mr. and Mrs. I. are retired. She was a school teacher who wants to finally see the world she has only taught about, and he, a retired policeman, grumbles with each step he has to take away from his recliner. Neither of them has any idea what is allowed through security and they don’t ask any questions until they get to the very last minute before walking into the scanner. The quick five-minute ordeal now takes about thirty minutes.
Now I have heard that there is a suggestion for experienced travelers. Maybe I dreamed that, but wouldn’t it be nice if there were a dedicated line where only people who knew how to go through security could enter? And if you held up the line, a trap door would open in the floor, causing the inexperienced traveler to drop through? Sigh… if only that were true…
Let’s not forget Mr. and Ms. G.I. Lookgood. He has perfect hair, perfect clothes, and perfect luggage. He is usually accompanied by his woman of choice. She is bejeweled, blinged to the max, and wears enough metal jewelry to set off a metal detector in two states over. She has a grand time waving it around as she sets off the system time after time.
After the wonderful time of going through security, comes the slight break before rushing off to catch your plane. That little break where you re-dress yourself in front of hundreds of strangers…holes in socks, belt wrapped around your neck, and feeling like you have been somehow cheapened by the whole ordeal.
Next stop, you stroll leisurely onto your plane. I myself am laughing even as I type this statement. Herded would be the more perfect word of choice. Some airlines board you in zones, some board you by colors, and some board you as first come, first served. I have seen women camping out in the line so they can be the first one on the plane. I have often wondered why that is. I always thought that the back of the plane landed the same time as the front, so who cares. But as an experienced flyer, I now know that the first on the plane has room to store their bags in the overhead. Now, most flights allow you to have two carry-on pieces of something. And I say “something” because that is how they count. A purse is a “something”, sometimes a coat can be a “something”, and so on. Now, in my case, I have to sleep with a CPAP machine, which to me, is a big “something”. My two carry-ons consist of my computer bag and my CPAP. I might arrive with no clothes to wear and such, but at least I can compute and sleep in peace!
Once on the plane, you sit for at least thirty minutes, breathing everyone’s air, sitting so close to the person to your right and left that after the flight, you feel like you have become family. You have sometimes grabbed each other’s hands, reached around, over, and sometimes under them to retrieve a seat belt. You have evaded their space, and I am sure all three of you have prayed to the Good Lord not to pass gas or snore while dozing!
But, alas, all good things must come to an end. As the plane touches down and taxis to the terminal, you gather your thoughts and belongings. But whatever you do…do not unbuckle your seat belt before the plane has come to a complete stop! I have actually heard the co-pilot say over the air that he has heard a seat belt unbuckle and said, “Do not make me come back there!” just like your dad would do in the car when you were little and being unruly in the back seat!
You walk quickly off the plane, wanting to kiss the ground as you make your way into the terminal. However, you refrain from doing so, knowing that it would look foolish. But wouldn’t it be amusing if a group of people disembarked from a plane and did just that? Imagine the surprised expressions on the faces of those waiting to board! Your journey to the baggage carousel is always an adventure, akin to a bustling deli counter that revolves endlessly. I’ve often fantasized about approaching someone and asking if they have seen a black bag amidst the sea of countless black bags. You would think luggage manufacturers would offer bags in different colors. I’ve witnessed some creative strategies to make bags stand out, such as fluorescent tape, yarn, stickers, and even the classic brown paper bag luggage. Yes, I have seen that too. I wonder if the airlines would compensate for damaged baggage if you opted for brown paper bags as your choice of luggage. Perhaps they would if you affixed a Gucci label to it.
Now to the end of the line. Luggage collected, and the long walk back to your car… wherever you parked it in the parking deck. Then you remember… Look for the black “roll-limp-scrape” marking you left on the concrete!
And that’s the way I see it…
A View From Bogaville 