Two hours later, we took off,
arriving in Atlanta about 11:30 pm.
Assured there would be an agent at the exit to help us with our
connections, we deplaned. Our tiny Asian agent was
there alright, swaying with exhaustion as I
asked her help.
“You wouldn’t
believe what happened here today,” she
stammered, eyes flickering with fatigue.
Yep, I would, and asked about my
luggage. She recovered some professionalism enough to wave me to the right—“It will take three hours. Go to Gate B19.”
A few dozen feet away, there
was B19, easily identifiable by the long line snaking down the corridor away from it. Hundreds of people.
I worked my way through the sea of people running, wandering, on their phones, iPads or laptops, or sleeping on the floor, draped over chairs or each other, pillows made out of backpacks and laps. Trolleys of snacks and drinks were parked everywhere, and blankets and travel kits were being distributed. I got on the line.
I worked my way through the sea of people running, wandering, on their phones, iPads or laptops, or sleeping on the floor, draped over chairs or each other, pillows made out of backpacks and laps. Trolleys of snacks and drinks were parked everywhere, and blankets and travel kits were being distributed. I got on the line.
Rich and Silvi were going to pick me up. I texted to tell them I had arrived.
“We’re here!” Silvi texted back. "Where are you?"
"On a line!”
“We’re here!” Silvi texted back. "Where are you?"
"On a line!”
20 min. later, I was rerouted
to another gate....wait
....wait....wait...only to be told this agent didn’t handle international flights, only domestic. Back to B19. I detoured at another gate with a shorter line, grabbing some snacks and a travel kit.
....wait....wait...only to be told this agent didn’t handle international flights, only domestic. Back to B19. I detoured at another gate with a shorter line, grabbing some snacks and a travel kit.
Wait. Wait.
Wait. Rebook, secure luggage
arrangements for tomorrow, text Silvi and Rich.
Emerge.
Silvi found me first and
scooped me up in that big hug so needed at the end of 18 hours of
travel. We drove to Susan’s, who was going to put me up for the night, babbling
all the way, making arrangements for tomorrow.…um,
later today…
Rich would bring my computer
into the office and see to getting it some badly needed service. Our ride to the airport was at 2 pm, when I
could pick it up. Maybe some of us could
get lunch tomorrow? I texted my team to
say I would be joining them in the van, sans luggage.
Entering Susan’s home, exhaling. She had fallen asleep while waiting and the
two of us, bleary-eyed and bone weary, hugged, said, “Good night!” and staggered off to bed.
And what traveler, at the end
of 19 hours, wouldn’t smile on finding this:
Ok, maybe a guy...but thank you Rich, Silvi, and Susan! My true sanctuary and friends.
Ok, maybe a guy...but thank you Rich, Silvi, and Susan! My true sanctuary and friends.
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