I Also Ride The Air-O-Plane

One of my dear friends posted this today. We have been discussing our different opinions of airports, so I decided to post my side of the story.

If there were such a thing as purgatory, I think it would be like an airport.

Let me give some history.

I have flown a fair number of times for someone who doesn't exactly live the most exciting life. I have flown to Chicago 5 or 6 times, I've flown to California, I've flown to Virginia and Maryland. I've flown to Florida, and then to Haiti a couple of times. I'm probably forgetting a few things, but that's the gist. During those flights I have encountered a number of unfortunate experiences.

When flying, you are at the mercy of both the weather and the airline. I personally find the latter to be much more terrifying. You have no control of when your plane takes off, how long you will be forced to wait, and how much money you will be forced to spend if you are unfortunate to be there long enough to need food.

I once spent the night in the airport in Atlanta. They lost our luggage, so we had to venture outside the terminal to discuss this problem with the powers that be. Once we found out that our luggage was in Miami, we wanted to go back to the terminal.

NO DICE!

The check in counters were closed for the night, and we spent part of the night (I kid you not) outside on the sidewalk. We then moved to the floors in front of the check-in. Overall, it was 13 hours of pain and 28 hours without sleep.

When I was flying home from Haiti once our airline had apparently over booked. They asked 5 people to get off the plane and wait for a later flight. No one was moving, so I went with my friend to wait. My poor family had to wait until the wee hours of the morning for me at the airport.

Last time I visited my family in Virginia our return flight was delayed. This wasn't as painful as other times, but the annoyance factor is huge. We spend this time in limbo, essentially, unable to be with our family and unable to be in our beds at home. Those are wasted hours of my life.

So, airports are just places between you and the place you are oh-so-anxious to be. You have no control whatsoever...so you just hope that those friends of yours back on Earth are praying their little hearts out to get you into Heaven.

Or something.

I will never love you, airport. Never. But, as you are still more convenient than driving, I will be forced to face you again and again.

I think this is the pessimist rising again...