Day One
Aug 13, 10:36
What the hell is with people? I’m approaching the Frontier Airlines Check-In with four bags (mostly camping gear I swear) and the movie ticket purchasing lines are just full. I stand to one side of the entrance and pause for luggage hauling relief. I wait. Eventually the line moves forward, freeing space for another passenger between the stanchions and ropes. A woman I hadn’t seen is hovering on the other side of the line, in the same position as I.
‘The line is going this way’ she says. I motion for her to move ahead of me into the line, just in case she had been there first. I’m not really in any hurry; I have two hours to check bags and be selectively searched and I tell her this. She moves ahead and hisses, ‘But the line is going the wrong way’. I step around to stand where she had been previously. Sometimes surrender is the only real option. I shoot squinty-eyed looks at the back of her head for the next ten minutes anyway.
A rather impressive infection of human gridlock is slowly taking over the entire concourse. It is not so much a result of tightened screening techniques as it is an architectural issue: there really is no place to screen checked baggage near the airline check-in desks at Midway Airport. But there the machines are regardless, their people-queues running perpendicular to the desks’ in a superb example of how not to design anything for human use. I can hear hopes and expectations shattering over near the automatic doors as new arrivals come to terms with how they will be spending the next half hour or so of their lives.
A family (husband, wife, and daughter of the seven-year-old-ish variety) arrive in the checked baggage inspection line just after I do. I learn the wife would not be flying quite early on. I’m not even trying to eavesdrop.
And so I’m happy enough and everyone is having a great time and the pre-check-in entertainment is about to begin and then it hits and the lady is all:
‘These lines are ridiculous. What is going on here? Are they going to let me past that gate? Am I even allowed to be in line here? I don’t have a ticket. This is all new, I can’t believe we have to go through this. It was never like this before.’
A short pause. Just long enough for me to realize how much I would rather carry my bags to the plane myself if it meant less idleness.
The husband: ‘The last time you flew was two and a half, three years ago. It has been like this for a while. Really, it is going to be fine. It’s not all that bad.’
Wife: ‘I hope you don’t miss the plane. There really is nothing worse than having to run and catch your flight. Do you remember that time we had to do that? You weren’t so relaxed then.’
H: ‘Yeah, a couple years ago, didn’t they put us on the next flight?’
W: ‘No, it was just after our wedding. Remember, she wasn’t with us. You really took off. Not so cool.’
H: ‘Well, they said to go and I did. What did you expect me to do?’
W: ‘No, wait, she wasn’t with us. No, wait, she was. It’s too bad I’m not going with you.’
Me: Jesus, I know you’re busy but any time now would be great.
Occasionally there is an audible dog bark coming from somewhere beyond the front lines of InVision x-ray machinery, security staff, and the gauntlet of luggage. The girl hears them first. Behind me: ‘Don’t even try to pet the dog, honey, he’s a security dog and he’s not trained to give kisses.’ And I’m thinking: this is correct and hospitality classes are likely not among those in the standard security dog curriculum.
The little girl looks up at her mother. ‘Do they train them to bite?’ And I want to know.