I recently published a Summer Reading List. I was reading one of the books on that list on my fun California trip last summer. Here’s the piece I wrote when I finally got home…
I’m Not Bitter or Anything
So California was awesome. I loved the conference and the excellent company, the beautiful coastline, and the fun weekend that followed with extended family. But now it was time to head back East to my own dear family and reality: laundry, cooking, cleaning and diaper changing.
My sweet uncle chauffeured me to the airport. 6’2” with a heart of gold and enough confidence for ten men, he’s one of the most encouraging people you’ll ever meet. He has a way with words, makes you feel like a million bucks. (Did I mention he’s eighty-four?)
He opened my car door, loaded the luggage, and away we went. We arrived at the airport and he stopped at the crosswalk for pedestrians, all the while scanning for the right airline sign.
“Doesn’t really matter where you drop me,” I said. “I’m not checking anything today.”
He persisted in finding the correct airline, and was curtly directed to the curb by two angry policemen.
“You just ran a red light,” said one.
My uncle was incredulous. “Really? But I stopped at the crosswalk and then went on.”
“Yeah, you stopped. But it was also a red light. Which means you can’t go ’til it turns green,” he said, with attitude.
“I sure hope you’re not going to give me a ticket,” said my uncle quietly, unfolding from his little black sports car, fishing for his wallet.
“Don’t know if we are or not,” said the other snippy officer.
I felt terrible leaving him in the situation, but had a flight to catch.
“Please take good care of this man,” I said to the officers, grabbing my carry-on and backpack.
“Because he’s a really good guy.”
And that, was an understatement.
And while they conferred over his papers and license, my sweet uncle gave me a bear hug, whispered he’d so enjoyed my visit, and sent me on my way with extra hugs and kisses for my family at home.
“You sure have a great family,” he said. “I just love all your boys and that wonderful husband of yours.”
I reluctantly left him at the curb awaiting his fate, and raced towards security.
Thankfully I breezed right through. I was taking the red eye to Newark, and everything was on time. I boarded in the first group of passengers, and the airline attendant checked to see if my bag fit in the box. It didn’t. But only by a HAIR.
“Guess you’ll have to check that for $25,” she said tartly.
“Really? Because I came out here on two separate flights and carried it on both.”
“ I guess somebody didn’t do their job, did they?” she snapped.
Sigh. I got out my credit card. It took several swipes, and emotionless, she keyed in the information at a snail’s pace. Hundreds of irritated and impatient eyes stared at me from the interminably long boarding line behind me. Slowly, very slowly, she attached the label to the handle and confiscated my bag.
On the plane, I noted fellow passengers stuffing carry-ons far larger than mine into overhead compartments. And somehow they clicked shut. (I’m Not Bitter or Anything)
The flight itself was uneventful, but my stay in Newark was not. I soon discovered my early a.m. connecting flight was cancelled due to aircraft maintenance. I was put on standby for a noon flight.
Five hours later, I hovered near check-in to see if the odds were in my favor. They were not. The incoming plane had two broken seats, and was overbooked by three already. Announcements over the loudspeaker offered increasingly generous compensation for volunteers to take a later flight.
But I was already on standby so I didn’t qualify.
A flurry of last minute activity took place at the boarding desk, and the plane departed. Without me. I was issued my third ticket of the day for a 9:58 p.m. flight, then received airline texts all afternoon with delays and gate changes.
My extended Newark holiday afforded me hours of reading, knitting, people and bird watching. A morning dove had taken residence in terminal A. Alternately begging for food and swooping between the rafters, it brushed within millimeters of unsuspecting passengers. One lady started and jumped a mile high, then giggled excitably. For far too long.
I engaged in several conversations, the most interesting with a pastor from my hometown. His broken English was barely understandable, but I quickly gleaned he’d volunteered to get off my earlier standby flight and had received $800 in travel compensation. (Again, I’m not bitter.)
A tall man with white hair came and sat between us, remarking on the inflammatory title of my book The Insanity of God.
That’s when the pastor grabbed an enormous black study Bible from his bag and brandished it high above his head.
“This… is my… spiritual WEAPON!” he shouted excitedly.
I winced, my eyes darting nervously. The word “spiritual” didn’t bother me. It was the word “weapon”. It seemed a poor word choice to bandy about in an airport. (Security did not appear.) Exhale.
The white haired man balanced a book about Newfoundland on his knee, but instead of reading, amused himself listening to the one-way conversation from the pastor, obviously understanding far more than I did. I smiled and nodded encouragingly, but had no clue what the pastor was saying. The white haired man also smiled. After a while he got up to catch his flight.
Hurriedly, the pastor said, “You’ve been……so kind…..to listen. And what….do you do?”
“I’m a urologist,” said the man, “and now I’ve got to catch a plane.”
Bummer. Because with his departure likely went some VERY entertaining medical urology stories I would’ve actually understood, but would never now hear.
Seemingly days later, I arrived in Manchester and went straight to baggage claim. No bag. It was nearly midnight now. I went to the airline desk to check on its’ status. “It’s still in Newark,” she barked. And without eye contact…“They’ll deliver it to you when it gets here.”
Well that was three days ago. I’ve called the “delayed” baggage hotline twice now. I plug in my tracking number and an automated recording calmly assures me that baggage crews are diligently searching for my bag.
(Really? Based on recent employee encounters, I find that doubtful.)
And in the background I hear a dull roar — likely the giant sucking sound from the Black Hole at Newark Liberty International Airport, where my only bathing suit (that fits), summer wardrobe, sandals and the striped sock I knit in California now reside. Maybe forever.
It’s true. I wasn’t bitter before. But maybe I am now.
You may also enjoy: Hot Flash
Clarke says
Great piece, Allie. That great sucking sound may be that of the American Republic disappearing down the drain. Keep up the good work.
Denise says
Allie, I hate to admit it but as sorry as I felt for you, I laughed all through this post. I think I’ll blame it on your gift to tell a story.
Allie says
Ha ha. Yeah, I was laughing writing it last summer D., and probably sitting at the kitchen counter at 2 a.m. Gotta laugh or you’ll cry where airports are concerned. Glad I tickled your funny bone. 🙂
Aunt Pinkie says
Oh, Allie- what a story! Am wondering if you ever got your bag-. So many frustrating thing so- starting w/ having to pay for your carry-on and then seeing other much bigger bags being stuffed into the overhead! And poor Uncle C. Dealing w/ 2 ride policemen– anyway, thanks for sharing!
Allie says
Yes, I did get the bag Aunt Pinkie. Finally. It was so irritating, especially since I didn’t want to check it in the first place. And Uncle Charlie did NOT get a ticket, thank goodness. Airports are so confusing to drive in.
Ellen says
Enjoyed this read as well! Keep on writing!
Allie says
Thank you my friend, thank you for reading.
Karen @ On the Banks of Salt Creek says
I’m suddenly very glad to be tied to homestead with animals that need care twice a day. I think I’ll steer my kids from wanting to work for the airline industry…..it must be horrible if such bad attitudes abound.
Any word on your delightful uncle and a ticket?
Just remember, “There’s no place like home.” Glad you made it home.
Tina Sneed says
Praying for calm, puctual flights filled with delightful employees and passengers in your very near future!
Allie says
Oh yes, that would be lovely Miss Tina. (But what ever will I write about when I get home?)
Aunt Margie says
Thanks for the wonderful stories coming out of your visit to S. CA. Particularly loved the part about the engaging uncle…wonder why? Read it allowed today and got those winsome smiles!
Allie says
Yes, quite an engaging uncle. His bride also. 🙂 Glad it gave a smile. The grief on the return trip was almost worth it for the story… XO
Erin @ Miss Scrambled Egg says
I’ve had tough time traveling as well, but it has produced some interesting stories as well. At least you got home safe. 🙂 I’m sorry that you had to deal with that stress.
Allie says
It was almost worth it for the story Erin. Almost. The lost luggage was the pits though. And I was never more thankful to get home!
Susie Mandel says
What a story! I hope your uncle was able to escape the ticket and that you did get your luggage. People are strange. I remember when I drove up to the DMV for my driving test at the age of 16. My mom was with me, and the instructor who was going to ride with me said our tags were expired and I couldn’t do my test that day until the tags were renewed. I think they were actually at home, because we returned a few days later and were in line behind a car with…guess what…expired tags. My mom and I were saying to each other, “Uh-oh, they’re going to get sent home!” The driving instructor walked around the car, got in, and drove off with the kid for their test. You just never know….
Allie says
Now that’s a very interesting story. And I couldn’t agree more with you, Susie-Q. People, are STRANGE! (Me included.) I just hope I’d make a pleasanter airline employee than the ones I met on that trip. I’ve definitely met many nice airline employees along the way.
Leslie says
Oh my word!!! They better refund that 25 bucks!
Allie says
Well it happened last summer Leslie. And sadly, I can’t even remember the name of the airline. (Repression!)
Emanuele @ guyslovecooking says
I am really sorry for what happened to you, but I must admit I laughed several times reading this hilarious post. Great writing skills my friend!
I would have loved to see your face when realized the pastor had received the $800 compensation. Not bitter, not even a tiny bit 🙂
Allie says
Thanks for your gracious words, and glad my story amused you Emanuele. Yeah, the $800 was a “bitter” pill to swallow. It took me a day or two after getting home before I could laugh…then it got funnier the further I got from it. I’m taking a flight this weekend for the first time since that trip, so must confess I’m a tad nervous…
Tracy says
Oh my, what a story Allie! Traveling can be soooo frustrating! I’ll have to tell you about the time we were going on a family 50th Wedding Anniversary cruise to Alaska. Thunderstorms interfered and delayed our flight which made us miss connecting flights. We were sent to California instead of Seattle to spend the night. We got to Seattle the next day but our luggage did not! We had a couple of hours to get to the ship in Vancouver. During which time I thought about us having to wear what we had on for the whole 7 day trip and what I should try to buy if I had time before boarding the ship like tooth brushes, deodorant etc. We boarded and low and behold our luggage arrived 5 minutes before we sailed!!! Phew! Very Stressful!!!
Allie says
Oh my word Tracy. The thought of anyone having to spend 7 days on an Alaskan cruise in the same outfit is painful. Can you even imagine if it hadn’t arrived? I don’t like to think about that. I also don’t like to think about a close call not so long ago when Jon and I barely missed being left by our cruise boat in Bermuda…our watches were both in the wrong time zone and we almost missed the boat. Now that is a story I want to write. It was simultaneously stressful and funny. We got on the boat, as they were untying it from the dock. STRESS!!!! Extra time in Bermuda might have been nice, but I don’t like to think about the hotel and flight costs we might have incurred…not to mention all the kind people at home watching our children…phew and phew!
Christy Smith says
I can’t wait for the Bermuda story! The Cali story was even compelling the second time around! You paint pictures with your words so well, I feel as though I am right next to you (bird lady giggling for too long, pastor having a monologue, etc.) You described your uncle to a tee. I could “see” every expression and “hear” the tone of voice. 🙂 Wish you well (fun, easy travel but with stories to tell) on this upcoming trip!! Xoxo