MyTrip
2004-05-03 at 6:53 p.m.
I'm back from my trip. I got back late last night and I've been trying to muster up the energy to pound out an entry ever since.
The trip itself was great. It had highlights and lowlights, all of which I'll share in good time. I kept a paper diary while I was on the road and I plan to transfer it here to D'land for my own records, and for anyone else's amusement, as well.
I will however, go into detail about yesterday. My flight was out of LAX. After yesterday, I'm banning myself from that place at all costs, unless I catch word that Clay is running naked through the terminal throwing $100 bills in the air.
My flight was at noon. We left Oxn@rd at 9:00am and arrived at the airport in less than an hour. You wouldn't think with that much time to spare that I would narrowly make the plane, would you?
The lines to check in ran almost two hours. There were skycaps outside and agents inside, but the outside lines seemed to be moving faster. I opted to stand outside.
In the sun.
In the 94 degree heat.
Once I finally checked my bags and got my boarding pass, I then had to stand on a security line for an additional half hour. Once inside, there was a near pile~up at the top of the escalator. Have I ever mentioned I'm terrified of escalators? Ever since I saw a four year old boy get eaten alive by one, I can't stand the sight of the things. As we neared the top and I saw people congregating, I went into full panic mode and started pushing.
It never ceases to amaze me why people insist on putting things of importance, like security check points, at the top of escalator ramps. Why are things that cause people confusion always at the end of an escalator, so that simple minded people have to stop and plan their next move, not paying heed to the fact that people are piling up behind them?
Once I pushed past the idiots, who yelled at me for freeing myself from harm's way, I made my way to the gate, where I was the second to last person on the plane before they closed the flight. I've never come so close to missing a flight.
After I got on the plane, I became aware of a pounding, blinding sensation behind my eyes. I had just told my mother that it had been awhile since I had a migraine. I guess I spoke too soon. My stomach was upset, because I had only had a sweet roll for breakfast. I was hoping to grab a sandwich before my flight. No such luck.
I then became aware of another sensation. The sensation of the plane not moving. Why was I hurried onto a plane that clearly was stuck at the gate? Evidently, another aircraft was blocking ours, preventing us from leaving the gate. This put us behind by half an hour.
I checked my itinerary for my connecting flight from Kansas City. It was only then that I learned I had a three hour layover. I never would have tolerated that, had I known about it when booking the flight. As it turns out, I would need those three hours. Intrigued? Read on...
At the end of the flight, I took out my cell phone to turn it on and see if I had any messages. In doing so, I must have accidentally pulled out my driver's license unknowingly. It must have tumbled to the floor, because I haven't seen it since.
I became aware of this when trying to board my flight from Kansas City to St. Louis. I searched my bags and found no license. I was forced to go back to the Southwest counter and explain my dilemma. Have I ever mentioned how much I detest the Kansas City airport? Well, I do. Everything is a giant circle. Everything I needed was always at the opposite end from where I needed to be.
The ladies at the counter were kind enough to call back to the gate where I deplaned and had an attendant go back onto the plane to check for my ID. After twenty minutes of searching and requesting of the passengers to please look for a Missouri state license housing the picture of a crazy fat lady on it, the search turned up nothing.
In order to board my new flight, I had to undergo added security measures. This included being asked to remove my shoes and socks, being wanded and having my bags thoroughly searched. The hooks on my bra kept setting off the alarm. I asked the security guard what she expected... there were at least 80 cast iron hooks holding two sagging sacks of flour in my bra. They were bound to make their presence known.
They searched every square inch of all my bags. They took my cell phone apart. They opened my lipstick. They rifled through every page of every magazine I brought and sifted through my photo album with pictures of the kids. I understood their concern and complied with their wishes. They were friendly about the procedure, but I couldn't help but to think it was a bit excessive for a person making a connecting flight. It wasn't as though I came in off the street. Having a license in my possession wouldn't make my any less a terrorist threat than I was, which of course, was no threat at all.
After forty minutes of airport security officials crawling up my ass with a microscope, I was free to go to my gate. I sat down and called K to share with him all the events of my day. I pretended my phone was losing reception, because I really just wanted to hang up the phone and cry. So I did. I sat there in the airport and bawled like a baby. I didn�t even care who saw.
Since the flight from MCI to Lambert is a short one, we never reached full altitude. As a result, my left ear wouldn�t pop. I couldn�t clear it to save my soul, so I spent the forty-five minute flight in agony. The only bright spot of my entire day was when a four year old boy on the plane told an overbearing, loud-mouthed, obnoxious flight attendant, �You know sumpin? You gotta shut up!� I think he spoke on behalf of all of us aboard flight 689.
My luggage didn�t arrive until an hour after the plane had landed.
I was never so happy to be home, to see my guys and to NOT be in an airport or aircraft. After yesterday, I�m seriously considering giving up air travel. If I am so misguided to ever fly again, I�m going to do at least one of the following:
~ fly into and out of Burbank or Long Beach
~ ship my clothing ahead so I�m only burdened by a carry-on - thus allowing me to bypass check in and print my own boarding pass at a self-serve kiosk
~ have my head examined
I will begin entries tomorrow detailing my trip, day by day, as taken from the paper diary I kept. Be forewarned or filled with dread - your choice.