One Spare Minute

What a crazy day of travel! I just heard on the evening news that air travel this summer is more crowded than usual, with more complications, more regulations, more difficulties with security, and more trouble with unexpected storms than ever. I think they might have something there.

This morning I got to the airport right behind a bus filled with teenage girls on their dream mega trip to somewhere. And they were right behind a group of Asian visitors who could not speak English. What should have been a ten minute wait at the self check machines turned easily to a thirty minute exercise in frustration and humor, watching the airline staff trying to communicate directions via gesture and charades to smiling uncomprehending groups, herding unfocused teenagers, trying to prevent non terrorists from smuggling aboard everyday necessities whilst everyone's patience wore thin and tempers were barely held in restraint.

I kept watching the minutes tick away - getting a boarding pass, leaving my luggage at the x-ray machine, standing in a way too long line at the security check point. I have to admit, when I had a mere ten minutes before my flight departed, and the gaggle of girls in front of me started shreaking about taking their cosmetics out of their carry ons, strewing their luggage across the cordoned off aisle and rummaging through stuff willy-nilly, I got a bit huffy.

Eight of my ten minutes had expired, the front of the line had moved on, but the girls were still sprawled across the aisle waffling about with their possessions, seeking those elusive zip lock bags stuffed with shampoo, face cream, nail polish and the like.

I summoned my politest, sternest grown up voice and announced loudly, "Ladies, my flight leaves in two minutes. Either pack it up or let me by!"

They looked about shocked to discover that there were other people in the place, and a huge line behind me tapping their toes as well. "Oh, we're sorry!" several of them apologized. They kicked their suitcases out of the way, and we poured past while they chattered amongst themselves.

Fortunately, I was not held up going through, sliding out of and back into my sandals quickly, then racing down the hall to gate 66 exactly one minute before they closed the gate. One minute to spare. Whew!

You would think that would be the end of this story, but alas! Not so. We sat on the runway for a full half hour while baggage handlers rummaged through the aircraft's guts mangling stowed luggage while seeking bags for someone on an international flight who's paperwork had not passed muster. Again, I realized that my mere 45 minutes to transfer flights in Detroit were dwindling away due to someone else's issues.

I don't know if you have been to Detroit recently, but they finally finished their construction. Now you have to take a little tram from one part of the airport to the other. They do come every few minutes. But by the time I got off the now late plane, identified the correct gate, and ran up the escalator to wait for the little train, I had exactly four minutes.

Once again, things flowed smoothly, and I reached my new gate with exactly one minute to spare. Again, I thought everything would be smooth sailing just because I was in my seat. What was I thinking! Once again we sat on the runway for a good 40 minutes. I never did find out what the delay was. Someone must have left their gum in the lavatory I suppose, because one of the rest rooms had been cordoned off with yellow police Caution tape and could not be used.

I gazed about at my fellow travelers. Every conceivable age, race, educational level and financial background must have sent someone on that plane. We had a crying week old baby and a wobbling nonegenarian. We had tall, short, bald, braided, blonde, fat, slim, rude, pleasant, well dressed, barely dressed, sick, tan, quiet, and noisy! Quelle cross section!

Eventually, we drove the fifteen minutes to the actual runway (Detroit makes a lasting impression) and managed to get airborn. Somehow they made up the time, and we arrived very nearly on time. And I was GLAD to be home. I am sure that the good Lord kept things moving forward so that even when it looked impossible, I made the necessary connections and got home in one piece, including my luggage. And the nicest part was that on each leg of the flight, I was seated next to an unoccupied seat and had a bit of space.

One minute to spare. That's all that was needed. Now if my blood pressure will just return to normal, I can turn my attention to packing!