Getting There - (continued from previous page)
After lunch I walked the corridors of the terminal building. Kansas City has three circular terminals that are not, to my knowledge, connected. The result is the illusion that you’re in a small, hometown airport. For me, with airline insecurities prior to 911 much less afterwards, it was very nice. I felt comfortable, noting that there were security personnel everywhere. I did stop to consider what kind of training they may have had but I wasn’t brave enough to ask. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer anyway.
With a little less than an hour before departure, I decided to get my security check out of the way. I queued with other passengers, presented my ID and boarding pass, and was admitted to the security checkpoint. My shoes, purse, and carry-on bag went onto the belt. I stepped through the magic security archway. No alarms. I’d made it! The next passenger wasn’t so fortunate. The alarm didn’t sound, or if it did I didn’t hear it, but a security office immediately approached the man and asked him to step aside to prepare for a more detailed inspection. Not his bags, mind you. Himself! I turned around out of curiosity and discovered it was the man I’d had lunch with! How did the man who sat next to me through my wild gyrations at lunch without appearing to notice me for a second end up directly behind me at the gate? It was eerie! Security appeared to be very interested in this man so I went on my merry, unchecked way! I admit to relief that he never showed up at my gate to board the plane.
Northwest Flight 1530 boarded quickly. I was seated at 12:10. The plane began to taxi at 12:19. I made myself comfortable in the DC9, having not only an aisle seat but the middle seat and the window seat as well. All the rows behind me in the plane were vacant. It was great to have so much room!
[Disclaimer: I have no idea if the photo of a plane is a DC9. It's a plane. It has the Northwest logo. That's good enough for me!]
Remembering my resolve to shed pounds, I opted for water instead of soda in-flight. The girls at the office would be shocked. “What? No Diet Dr. Pepper?” I can hear them now. I devoured 55 calories of pretzels and decided life was good.
The flight to Minneapolis was a bumpy one as we flew around thunderstorms! As the plane pulled up to the gate, it was readily apparent why the pilot kept apologizing for turbulence! We landed as a fierce storm was blowing through. Sitting idle at the gate, the plane was bouncing around violently, projecting the feeling of being on a trampoline. The flight attendant said they’d had to cancel some flights, but the storm moved through quickly and my connecting flight to Seattle left on time.
Traveling by plane is an interesting potluck experience. You never know who will be sitting beside you, whether they’ll talk too little, too much, have good hygiene, pull out every photo taken of all their grandchildren, brag about their successes, sob about their heartaches, occupy their seat and yours, and worst of all, try to sell you something!!! I was fortunate because I was seated next to a charming elderly lady who was carrying a Joyce Meyer’s book and her worn Bible with a black, leather cover.
She turned out to be a lovely travel companion who had nice stories to share about her family, all of whom are hard workers and have enjoyed success in their own right. We talked about her deceased husband, a better man of whom could not be found. I learned that they’d been married 50+ years and he had suddenly and unexpectedly passed way about 2 months after his retirement. When she asked about my parents and I volunteered that my dad had remarried after my mother’s death, she was all ears and asked a lot of questions! Sensing that she might be quizzing me for reasons other than curiosity, I strung her along for a bit, enjoying the sparkle in her eye! I asked if she’d ever considering remarrying.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “My kids wouldn’t like that very much.”
The sparkle in her eye betrayed her words however. I think she’d like very much to share her life with someone special, and if her kids are the kind people she described, I suspect they’d eventually warm to the idea. It’s my fondest hope that some sweet little old man sweeps her off her feet and they live as happily as she did with her first husband!
We spent the remainder of the flight talking like two old ladies – gossiping about people we know, and talking about how irresponsible “kids today” are – our own families excluded, of course!
She pointed to the passenger sitting across the aisle from us. He was a nice looking man wearing a black Harley Davidson t-shirt, sporting a neatly pulled back ponytail full of curls, and a full beard that had two long, unruly strands hanging down, gelled with curls in the end. Under the watchful eye of my travel companion I had but one word to say: “Scissors.” She smiled approvingly and said, “Razor.” We giggled.
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