We finally landed at about a quarter to eight. My flight wasn’t until 10:10 so I was not worried about missing my plane. Mark and Lori’s Continental flight was set to leave at 9:20, so I suggested that the allow me to wait for my bags alone and maybe I would catch up with them later. They told me they would wait for a few minutes with me, and I wasn’t going to put up an argument. William kept both his bulging eyes glued on the conveyor belt as the same small green bag went around over and over again. Soon some boxes marked fragile followed suit of the canvas bag, and I joked with the kids that they were human organs on their way to a transplant candidate. My joke ended however when a single man scooped up all the boxes and made off with them out the door.
Just when they were about to leave me with a cell phone and head off to check in for their flight, the first of my two bags made an appearance. It was the blue one packed full of cooperative products. It was so packed so tightly that it had began to tear at the seams. I began to wonder if it was going to make it back to the states in one piece. The green bag soon followed, and we were on our way to our respective ticket counters. The plan was to check in and then meet up at the departure gates. They headed off to concourse D, while I headed in the opposite direction to A. The line was empty, which was a shocker for an airport that is normally bustling with activity no matter which hour of they day you are there. I checked in, and learned I had no seat assignment, and that I would need to be at the gate at 9:25 in order to obtain my assignment for the 10:10 flight. The plane would board 30 minutes prior to departure.
I walked briskly through the concourses until I arrived at the Continental desk. I could see from a distance that there was a grim look on all faces, and a genuine look of disgust plastered on Caroline. “What’s going on?”, I said to them as I rolled my carry on bag up to where they were standing. They informed me that they had missed their plane. I checked my watch. It was only 8:30, and their plane didn’t leave for 50 minutes. The attendant was in the middle of telling them and two other passengers that they stop checking people in 1 hour prior to departure. I thought to myself, “OK so they were five minutes late. There is still time to get them moving if you do it right now”.
The man informed them that the line to the International Police was too long and they would not make it. My eyes peered around the corner and scanned the security line. There weren’t even two people waiting in it, and part of me wanted to tell the guy to please have his cataracts removed ASAP. Since this was not my airline I kept my mouth shut. There would be no traveling for Mark, Lori, Caroline, William, the Matthew McConaughey looking gentleman or Mr. Texas Drawl himself. All of them would be stuck in São Paulo until at least the next night. It was then that they would be able to depart for the US, if there were any available seating of course.
What stunk for them is they needed to lug the nine suitcases and five carry-on bags that they had between them from the airport to the hotel and then back to the airport the next day. I stayed with them as long as I could, but I still needed to be assigned my seat. I gave them all hugs goodbye, and then turned and left. I was on my own in a great big airport in a city of almost 17 million people. Mehhh…who am I kidding...I loved it! I love traveling alone. There is just something about strolling through a strange airport pretending you know where you are going, when you really don’t have a clue. You can still feel like a big cheese though right?
I made it through security and the International Police relatively quickly and found myself at the United gate at 9:23. They had not yet given out the assignments, and as luck would have it, I would be the last one to get one. I boarded the plane after they checked my carry-on bag for the third time and found my seat. Coincidentally it was next to a man I had been talking to in the security line. He was a chef who owned a catering company in Fredericton, New Brunswick, and he had just started dating a girl from Brazil. We talked for a while as the plane sat on the runway waiting to depart. Topics ranged from women to Canada to food to Brazil to the United States to the best way of using air miles. He was very friendly and I was thankful I wouldn’t be squished next to some hag on this full 10 hour flight.
I may not have been next to a hag, but I sure was in back of one. This woman complained about everything. “My tray won’t go back up. My milk is too cold. The movie is too loud.” On and on and on she would go. After watching a movie of my own, and silently wishing that the flight attendant would sedate the wench in front of me, I put my pillow against the window and managed to fall asleep. You got to love narcotics when they help you do something you were never able to do before, sleep on a plane…
Could Brave Young William Be Afraid of a Little Lightning?
No comments:
Post a Comment