Why? Why didn't I package up all the stuff I bought in Paris and send it to myself instead of stuffing it in my backpack and carrying it to the airport? I didn't do it because I have this thing about instant gratification. If I want it I want it now and I will make it happen now or as soon as possible. I knew I would absolutely go bonkers waiting for that package to reach my post office box and I would have had a disappointment on a daily basis until it got here.
I dragged the pack to the elevator and convinced myself that it would be ok to be lazy and give in to getting a cab to the airport even though the cost for the cab would have been almost as much as the metro ticket I had purchased for a 5 day use which included use to the zone the airport is in. I was going to waste that metro ticket all because I decided not to take time to go to the post office.
The thing is, it was 6 o'clock in the morning. Breakfast isn't served until 7am at the hotel and no one was around that early. I couldn't bring myself to call for a cab because the language barrier is bad enough in person. I didn't want to call and have the person on the other end not get to me in time. So, after making as much noise as I possibly could to try and get someone to come to the office I draped my carry on across the front of me then heaved the pack onto my back and walked down to the metro. Instead of going to metro Abbesses which is slightly uphill from the hotel I went to metro Blanche and had a really nice walk downhill. Hmm, I started thinking it wasn't going to be too bad.
At the metro, again, there was no one around, and I easily fit through the turnstile and found my way to the first train. That early in the morning I found I could have two seats to myself - one for my butt and another for leaning back with the pack still on. Two transfers later I was at the airport and feeling very glad I'd not taken a cab.
Knowing I'd never be able to lift the backpack into an overhead bin and about to have a broken back by the time I reached the ticket counter I checked the backpack and crossed fingers none of my newly acquired guidebooks would come up missing. Thankfully all the happened was that when Customs had rifled through the bags they weren't kind about making sure the books fit back in the bag and the zipper split open. Luckily I was able to fix it and as long as I don't over stuff I can continue to use that bag.
At security I buzzed going through the scanner. No one was taking their shoes off so I hadn't taken mine off and they have some metal on them. Instead of letting me take them off and go back through I got to get felt up...by a girl - no fun! It wasn't too bad, it didn't feel invasive at all, just annoying - especially when she cupped my boobs and lifted....yeah, yeah, I'm a saggy old woman, I get it.
At Newark I had to claim my backpack then bring it back to be checked for the connecting flight. I guess that helps keep things from getting lost but that also meant I had to carry the darn thing a couple of miles. I have this thing where my face gets really red when I have any kind of exertion. If you don't know me you might think that I'm about to fall over dead with a heart attack or something when I look like that. I always feel fine and not nearly as ready for death as I might look but it puts everyone around me on alert to catch me if I fall and to be ready for CPR. I finally got to the baggage area and the guy was really sweet in taking the bag and not making me carry it from the entry to the conveyor belt. As I'd been walking up to that part I'd observed him being a major dick to other people and making them go the extra forty feet or so. I really must have been beet red for him to have stepped up to help.
At Customs when asked what I was doing in France, am I terrorist, etc., I got into a bit of a sparring match with the Customs guy. I mentioned the great weather in Paris and he said too bad I had to come home to a snow storm and I said there isn't a storm and he said there is and I said there couldn't be because my son had told me there was no snow yet and it was dawning on me that I ought not to be arguing with the guy holding my passport when he handed it back to me, waived me on and said he now feels bad for the son who hadn't yet told me about the storm. In Quintyn's defense he did send a text to my e-mail address but I wasn't able to access the internet at that airport.
No problems with the flight to Newark, but the flight out of there was delayed an hour due to the plane coming in being delayed. At one point a Continental Rep got on the intercom and said the flight was overbooked and could they have a volunteer give up their seat. They would get a $600 credit for a future flight and a seat on the next flight out. At first I thought "that could be my ticket to California next year", then I thought, "screw it. I'm tired. I'm going home".
At home Quintyn and our friend David picked me up. Quintyn carried my pack with no hint of heaviness and I came home to a clean house exactly as I'd left it. I slept hard through the night and have spent all day today doing nothing but catching up on the news, blogging, emailing, facebooking, putting stuff away, doing laundry, planning a party for friends from high school/Upward Bound and being so glad to not go anywhere. It's been a great day of rest. I am thankful for having been able to spend my Thanksgiving doing nada.
Tomorrow I will go downtown to people watch, do some light shopping and take in a movie or two. Thanks to all who followed my trip to Paris.
PS: no gremlins on the wing, but it was pretty on the trip from Newark with the sun setting....the picture was loading on it's side so here's the video. Shut the sound off. It's loud.
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