Moments with Strangers #2

Airports

I'm feeling good in the moment.  Airports will do that for me.  So many people with so many stories.  So many opportunities for plans to change at a moments notice.  So much time to spend reading, writing, chatting, calling people, going for walks, observing from coffee shops.

The stout wrinkled woman comes up to me smiling.  "Pasco?" she asked.

"Pasco?" I repeat stupidly.

"Washington?" she asks next.

"Washington?" I say, feeling like a parrot.

"Va a llegar Pasco..." is all I catch as she says something to herself, thinking over how to translate it to English.  (I've done this myself many times, the opposite way.)

"Yo no se," I offer.  "Lo siento."

"Ah!  Ok."  She laughs in delight at my attempt to communicate with her in Spanish.  We smile and go our separate ways.

I approach Gate 80 cautiously.  My flight was supposed to leave from Gate 64 at 2:00.  When I got to the airport, it had been moved to Gate 84 according to the Departure Boards, but Gate 84 wasn't publicizing that it was home to flight 6337 to Colorado Springs yet.  When it finally claimed the flight, it was delayed by half an hour.  Within half an hour, the flight was moved to Gate 80, hence my hesitation.

I hear one of the people sitting in the waiting area remark "...not leaving until 2:30 now."  I approach them, "Is this the flight to Colorado Springs?"

They shrug their shoulders with a smile, "We hope so!"  The gate has yet to own the flight, but I decide to sit down with this crew, because at least we're in this together now.  I warned my mother, I should never fly United.

I was about 12 when the curse started.  My dad was supposed to fly from the cabin to KC for a Goodman family reunion, and then drive my Blythe grandparents back to the cabin.  My mom asked my sister  and I to get my dad a paper to help his nerves while he flew.  The front page had a story about a plane crash, a bad omen, but my mom said give im the paper anyway.

We hung out in Denver all day because Aunt Diane and Ryan were flying in later that day.  We went back to the airport to pick them up, and my mom called the Blythe grandparents from a pay phone, who were grateful to hear from us!  They had been hoping we would call, and told us not to leave the airport, that my dad was still at the gate, where he'd been for hours, and his plane was going nowhere.

Since then flying United for me has resulted in lost luggage, delayed flights, and any mix-up you can have in an airport.  I still shudder when I think about trying to get myself and all my baggage to the Sierra Nevadas.

An agent appears at our gate.  "Where'd she go?" he asks us, inquiring about the last agent who has left.  We smile blankly.

"She went to find us a plane!" someone jokes.

"So she just left you all here, all alone," he shakes his head and smiles.

People have their smart phones out, checking statuses.  The plane has left its last location one mom informs us all, so its running behind but still moving along.

"You all could have driven to Colorado Springs by now," our agent points out to the mom.

"I think about that all the time while I'm in Denver," she replies, still with a smile on her face.

For however temporary, it is refreshing to be in a group of people that so easily bonded together to share this travel experience, with smiles on their faces and light laughs when we're supposed to be boarding and there's no plane in sight.  I can't remember being surrounded by such a stress free group of travelers before.