I like to leave extra early when I have to go to the airport. I hate worrying that I might miss a flight because of a traffic jam or a long security line. But on a recent flight, I didn’t allot as much time as I normally do. The flight was in the evening, and I had to finish work before leaving.
I hailed a cab and loaded my luggage in the back. The driver didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. Other motorists were passing us left and right. Given the time pressure, this irked me a bit. I became concerned when the guy wandered out of his lane a couple of times. A passing motorist honked at him the second time he drifted into an adjacent lane.
From the back seat, I could see the driver’s face in the rear view mirror. To my horror, he was on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel. He was struggling to keep his eyes open.
If we had still been on the city streets, I would have had the guy pull over so I could pay him and catch another cab. Unfortunately, we were crossing a large bridge at this point. There was no safe place for a pedestrian to stand, and it would have been nearly impossible to catch another cab on the bridge.
I rolled down both back windows hoping that a blast of fresh air might help to wake the guy up. This caught the driver’s attention. Realizing now that I was watching him closely, he pulled out his phone and called someone. They talked for a while in his native language. I guess he thought that talking would help him to stay away, but he was still struggling, often leaning forward to prop his body up by leaning over the steering wheel.
He wasn’t an old guy. He looked to be in his mid twenties. I guessed that he must work multiple jobs leaving little time for sleep. Clearly, he had no business driving a cab.
We made to the airport, but the traffic there was horrible due to a massive construction project. It took another thirty minutes to get from the highway exit to the terminal. Sleepy driver guy was barely hanging on to consciousness the whole time. It was a nightmare, but at least we weren’t going very fast.
When I checked my bag, the airline agent told me that the flight had been delayed thirty minutes. This was welcome news, because I was running very late at this point. I was still concerned as to whether I would make it to the gate on time.
The next hurdle was a massive security line. One lady commented that it was the longest line that she had seen since the first couple of years after 9/11 when they started implementing much stricter security procedures. The line was moving, but it took another forty-five minutes to get up to the security checkpoint and scanners.
While I was waiting in line, I heard a woman’s voice behind me. “Do you mind if I get past you?” she asked each passenger ahead of her. “I’m sorry. My bag is already in there. I have to get through.” To one person, she actually said, “I’m not trying to be a dick, but...”
I didn’t argue with her when my time came. She looked stressed out in an unhealthy way, like someone who might start screaming if confronted. Many of us were concerned about catching our flights; this chick was catching the crazy train.
Stress levels were high. A few other panicked passengers eventually pushed their way through the line before I got up to the security desk. One employee tried to manage the traffic, but his instructions were somewhat random. This frustrated some passengers and made the situation more tense.
I finally made it through security. I gathered my belongings, put my belt and my shoes back on, and walked to my gate. I asked the agent there if they would be boarding soon. She said that the plane had not yet arrived and they didn’t know when it would be ready.
I sat and charged my iPad for a bit. I considered getting something to eat, but I decided to skip it. I didn’t want to trigger extra bathroom events during an evolving and unpredictable situation.
Finally, we boarded two hours late. I took a window seat beside a nice couple. The man sat beside me; his wife sat on the aisle. The guy had a bad habit of “manspreading”, i.e. sitting with his legs wide open, thus encroaching on my already tight space. The couple brought a bunch of snacks on board and munched on crackers throughout the flight. I have nothing against crackers, but the constant crunching was a bit distracting. They acted like kids with no impulse control.
I don’t remember when air travel became such a tense, dismal, soul-crushing experience. Every time I go somewhere, it ends up being so much more unpleasant than expected. I’m going to have to give myself a serious pep talk before I board another airplane.
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