I was delayed in the Warsaw, Poland airport, when the thought came to me.  “Why are there so many guys with haircuts like the groom in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”?  Okay, if you’ve seen the movie, you know what I’m talking about.  Hmm.  The truth is, I love airports, the spirit of adventure is alive and well there.  Everyone is either coming from somewhere, going somewhere, or picking someone up who’s been somewhere.
     My journey didn’t start calm.  Due to Chicago traffic, I arrived quite late.  We’re told to be at least an hour early to the airport, or two hours if it’s an international flight.  I made it there (gulp) half an hour before my flight was leaving.  I rushed to the counter, the line of people long gone.  When the check in lady saw my luggage she exclaimed, “Hoary hoary.  You have too many pieces of luggage.  You are only allowed two.”
     “Can I just pay the fine?”  I was taking some sound system stuff back for the base, as well as a portable keyboard for my own work there.  I also carried a bag of puppets with me because there was no room in my luggage.  
“Yes, of course,” she said, as she picked them up.  “No, these are light.  Don’t worry about it.  Go to gate M3.  Hoary hoary.”  It was then that I realized that “Hoary” was not a Polish exclamation of anything, but she was telling me to hurry.
While I waited to get through security, she and another counter lady stopped me.  It seems that my computerized ticket wasn’t on their computer, or something like that.  They looked at my paperwork and their paperwork, decide I’m pretty trustworthy and that the money got to the right people, and let me beeline to security, shouting “Hoary Hoary” in my wake.
Now I had 15 minutes to take off time, and I opened my laptop bag to go through security.  I shouldn’t have worn a belt either.  Then they asked me to remove my shoes.  As the stuff rolled through the x-ray machine, my bag of puppets tipped over and the .  gorilla puppet flopped off the line.  
I zipped the laptop into my backpack, grappled my shoes on, and threw every loose item; belt, change, boarding pass, reading material back into the bag with the gorilla on top.  I could get dressed later, I decided.  Then I ran for my gate, the Chariots of Fire theme song playing somewhere in my subconscious as the crowds around got all slow motion like.  My arm is draped over the entire carry-on bag as the gorilla’s arms flop to the rhythm of my steps.
After running past twelve gates, I arrived and fortunately there was still a person in front of me who hasn’t boarded yet.  “Safe,” I said, to no one in particular.  But then the ticket man uttered those ill-fated words.  
“I’m sorry, you need two boarding passes.”
I looked at him, my eyes like dinner plates.  “W-what?”
“One for you… and one for the monkey.”  He was smiling.  Comedian.
Other than that, the trip was uneventful.  Is there a spiritual lesson here?  Only to be thankful that even though you know you have to sit for 12 hours or so, right now it feels pretty good.

¶ 3:18 PM

 Markus said...
Uh-huh. The moral of the story for all airline travelers is, anything that might cause a mess should be put in a ziplock back before putting in the luggage. The ziplocks come in handly later anyway. This is a good idea for toothpaste, shampoo, etc. (especially things pressurized) If you ever see the guys loading and unloading your luggage, you will appreciate this reasoning.  

 Ruth said...
Such a vivid story. I am going to continue reading this really great book. -Ruth  

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