Foggy

21 10 2009

stfog_zurich_airport_nov03I’m one of those people who thinks she can handle whatever should come her way during this lifetime.  And I can most of the time.  But the one thing I cannot handle is airports.  Now, I know in this day and time that everyone spends a great deal of time in an airport.  But not me.  I just walk in and fall apart.  There is something about the architecture of an airport that really throws me.  Maybe it’s the windows.  Maybe it’s the hustle and bustle of the people.  But I really think it is the time board that says the airplane will be late.  And later.  And sometimes even later.  That’s it!  That’s what really gets to me.

I can wait in doctor’s offices.  I can wait in line anywhere and remain very civil.  I can even wait for a bus.  But I cannot wait for an airplane.  I try to sit where I can look out a window so that I won’t see that schedule that says the plane is late.

My husband and I went fishing in Canada one time.  It was a nice week, but I was ready to get home.  When we got up that morning, the fog was moving in.

We arrived at the airport just in time to see the changing of the sign.  It didn’t even have an departure time at all.  I went to the desk and asked the lady what time the plane would be leaving.  She gave me a cold, hard stare and said, ‘we will leave when we can see the top of that mountain over there.’  And she waved her arm in ‘that’ direction. Then she turned away to help someone else.  I went to my seat and tried to be nice about it all.  But as the time wore on, I became more and more agitated.  I went to the desk again and asked the same question.  Once again, she gave me ‘the look’ and said ‘we will leave when we can see the top of that mountain over there.’  And she waved her arm once again.  I returned  again to my seat and tried to act nice.   Finally, I had just simply had it with this bunch of people.  We were going to leave right now or else.  I was not going to sit in this airport even one more minute and that was that!

I went to the desk again, but this time I said, ‘I want to speak to your supervisor’.    The lady gave me ‘the look’ again and said, ‘we will be leaving when we can see the top of that mountain over there.’  This time, she waved her arm really hard.

I  skulked back to my chair.  My husband had been watching and said, ‘well, what did you find out?’  I gave him that hard, cold stare and said, ‘we will be leaving when we can see the top of that mountain over there.’  And I waved my arm really hard.  And I was nice all the time after that.  I didn’t dare go back to the desk.  I was afraid she might hit me with that arm.  We left when we could see the top of that mountain over there.

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