Up at an ungodly hour to fly back to LA. However, also first day in five when I haven’t felt obligated to put on makeup. Hurray!
Don’t know how, but I missed the turnoff for the 80W and drove right past. I mean, aren’t there huge signs everywhere? Anyway, I had to turn off at Redwood and backtrack.
The big news is the new airport security measures. Apparently British Intelligence uncovered an Islamic extremist plot to construct bombs onboard flights with the use of a Casio watch, a battery and some special gel. Thus, the new restrictions state that no liquids of gels are allowed in the boarding areas, or on board. So far, breastmilk and medications like insulin are still allowed.
Interesting, because as I was trying to make my way to check in, I saw three middle-eastern men, with substantial beards and flowing linen robes walking in the other direction. I wondered about them. What brought them to Utah? Did they feel ostracized? Had people been more rude and prejudicial since the plots were discovered, or had it not made a difference? I had almost made up my mind to walk on the other side of the escalator, when I silently denounced myself and passed right by them. Good thing, since the other side of the escalator was barricaded off to block pedestrian traffic.
Of course, the new restrictions made the SLC airport chaotic and crowded, which one wouldn’t expect before 0600. One bad thing about Southwest in SLC is that it is the stepchild of the airport. The check-in counter is on the extreme left, and if one is coming from the parking lot, one has to walk by luggage carousel (of which I have distinctly repulsive memories), and a myriad other ticket counters before one can check in. And then, they have the e-ticket counter on the far left of the Southwest area. As if anyone actually buys regular tickets anymore.
After I was finally checked in (which was rather a killjoy, since I would have been able to carry aboard my bag if not for the liquid/gel prohibitions), had to scurry (since I couldn’t actually run because of my toe, not that I would have run anyway, as I really hate running) to the security line, which stretched back past the luggage carousel (again!). The line actually moved rather fast … I only wasted 30 minutes of my life. Then again, I could have had 6-9 fantastic dances in that time. Oh, the regret.
Did some more scurrying to make it to the boarding gate. Again with the step-childedness of SW … their boarding areas are just about as far away from the security area as one can get while still remaining indoors. I passed an old guy waiting in a go-cart, but my impatience told me that he might drive slower that I was able to scurry.
Finally made it to gate B-17, and was the 3rd to last person to board the plane. And as fortune would have it, a seat was waiting right in the front row, with room in the overhead bin for my laptop case. How unexpectedly serendipitous. Of course, the seat was next to a couple with a toddler on the mom’s lap, making the bulky dad shift his burly arm into my personal space … at first I shifted away, but then it got uncomfortable, so I decided a little arm contact wouldn’t kill me. And when the mom moved the child onto her other arm, the proper distribution of arm space was wonderfully restored.
Now, if only I could have one of the burritos that the captain had so lackadaisically placed on the center divider controls (I even saw the little containers of salsa right next to it), I would be perfectly happy.
Next time, maybe I’ll drive …
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