I include the time instead of the gate number in this entry because it is of slightly more relevance than usual. Normally when you’re waiting in the airport, the last thing you want to look at is the time; a snail’s pace reminder of how long you have to wait. And today, I got an early start in the waiting game.
“How’s the 11:00am flight sound?” My dad asked weeks ago.
“Sounds great,” I replied.
No, it doesn’t sound great. It sounds like an alarm going off at 6:21am. How’d we get from 11am to 6:21am? Try and stay with me, this part goes fast. Wake up, make sure all your stuff is in order, shower, shave, get dressed, grab whatever food you can, be out the door by 6:50. Drive to the shuttle station, get on the shuttle, move to the back seat so the old lady doesn’t have to. Regret it the whole ride there because you feel your spine being rearranged every time the shuttle hits a bump. Get off the shuttle, get out your boarding pass and then halt. Big smiles now, it’s time for the fun. Going through security. Spend all morning trying to get everything together, and now you have to go in reverse. Take your shoes off, belt off, wallet and keys out, unpack your laptop. It eventually looks like 4 lines of overdressed adults getting ready for a slumber party. Everyone goes through, everyone beeps and gets sent back to take out their phone or whatever they forgot. No beeps, PJ party over. Everyone hustles to reclaim their bags, their shoes, phones, and whatever dignity they have left and get to the terminal.
I finally sit down at gate A30. Gate A31 is full of people but nobody waiting for A30. I hear over the intercom “Now boarding… Flight to Saint Louis.”
No way. There’s no way the security circus took that long. I check my phone: 9:05am. My flight to Saint Louis doesn’t board until 10:30. I got here so quick, I’m just in time to watch the flight before mine take off. As the kids say these days, FML. I guess for how many complaints there are about airport security, they do sometimes do a painfully efficient job.