Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Airport Karma

A couple weeks ago we took a long weekend to visit my family back in the Kansas City area.  It was awesome.  I hadn't been home in a little over a year so it was a much needed visit.

Then, we showed up at the airport to make our way back to Charleston and our flight was delayed by 4 hours.  Now, this is the sort of thing that I don't get my panties in a wad about because:
1.  I would rather be late than dead.
2.  There is absolutely nothing I can do to change the situation.  
Regardless, it was annoying and I sort of have to take the grand, universal, karmic blame for it.

I like to think that on any given day I am a half way decent human being.  Generally speaking, I am content, have a sunny outlook and I play well with others, so to speak.  The one reigning exception to this disposition is the airport.

The airport is less about civility and more about survival.  I will push, I will shove, I will shamelessly throw dirty looks.  I am exceedingly polite to TSA (because you never bite the hand that feeds) but will unabashedly snake my around families, business folk and probably little old ladies to make it on the shuttle between terminals.  I am not proud of this.  But every time I swear under my breath at the family of five walking too slowly between gates or I shoot a dirty look at the old couple who doesn't understand the restrictions on liquids at security, because all of these people are standing in between me and the flight I am inevitably late for, I realize that they are probably thinking equally nasty things about me.  And I am okay with that.  In fact, I encourage it.

So when we flew out to Kansas City my husband and my seats were split up for the first leg of the trip.  I am a person that puts a high value on personal space.  So sitting next to a petite yoga instructor on a plane would make me slightly uneasy.  Sitting in one of those teeny, tiny airplane seats next to someone that is outside the realm of a healthy build makes me full on uncomfortable.  When I found my seat on this first leg it was between the window and an older woman who had one of those faces that just naturally looks cranky.  I sit down and thanks to my personal bubble neurosis proceed to plaster myself against the window and wall of the plane.  The woman I am next to, still looking cranky, proceeds to pull out some random Danielle Steel paperback.  Five minutes in and my back is already starting to hurt from the awkward way I am sitting.  I am super tired.  I am shooting my husband looks from across the aisle as he was fortunate enough to be in the row on the regional jet that has a single seat.  The whole nine yards.  So I do what "airport Erika" normally does.  I start projecting awful things on this poor woman sitting next to me.  Not wishing her ill will by any means but just imagining her life as awful, and meaningless. Why else would she look so cranky and read drug store fiction?  I brood, read my book, and try sleep for the next 2 hours or so.

Again, I am not proud.  In addition to just being the type of person that would totally unwittingly show up with a side of beef to a vegan picnic, I am at the airport.  Where I look out for number one.  Where self preservation is my priority.  This is far from a shining moment for me.

As the plane landed one of the women in the row in front of us turns around and addresses the woman next to me,
"Sister Agnes."
"Yes, Sister Catherine."
"I would like you to meet Danielle (indicates woman next to her), she works for the Diocese."
Well, of course.  I had just spent 2 hours being cranky about sitting next to a nun.  Of course our flight home was going to be delayed.  I totally deserved that.

PS - This week's photo is here.


  1. Awesome post! I'll remember this the next time "Airport Beth" is crashing through the crowds and mentally hating on the person on one of those ridiculously small regional "jets" to whom I am crammed into the neighboring seat.

  2. LMAO! Seriously...that is hilarious...but sorry about your luck. HAHA

  3. Sorry to laugh at your luck.

  4. lol thats hilarious! Its hard for me to always remember, but I've learned that whenever I do that, I'm usually projecting onto the other person what I'm feeling!

  5. hahahhaa, that WOULD happen! Traveling is the worst, though. I bet those nuns had some not-so-nice thoughts too :)

  6. That made my morning...you're too funny. In my humble opinion, you should pen a novel with your wit and wisdom. You make me smile...even though you would get highly annoyed with my entourage of hooligans at the airport. :) No wonder we never fly.

  7. As a survivor of Catholic, school I can attest to the fact that nuns can be as not so nice as the next guy.
    Funny stuff.
    Haven't fflown in four or five years. Think I'll keep it that way...