2005-05-07

Last night in the SF airport I was waiting in line to check in for my flight. Sister and I made plans to go visit him together. Sister backed out AFTER I purchased tickets, which means this is no doubt a set up. Her reasons for not being able to attend seemed reasonable at the time, but I�m increasingly suspicious that something is up. Also, my mother did not say that she was going to be in town for Mother�s Day either, and doesn�t seem to mind that I will be out of town for the day honoring her. We shall see.

However, my father and I do not communicate effectively so I'm sure everything will be fine.

The couple in front of me was doing their best to finagle an upgrade. However, they had no mileage card, probably bought their tickets through Hotwire, and judging from their dress, thought it was 1987. The ticketing agent was doing her best I�m merely and efficient employee of this airline, I don�t make the rules, in the face of a very persistent couple. Which, is just dumb. My favorite moment however was when she walked around the counter, and looked at them, seriously checking them out. The woman with her frizzy perm that reminded me of Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing while his locks looked more like something that looked natural even while wet. They were both cheaply dressed in unflattering looks, her in a dickey / cardigan ensemble and jeans while he wore ill fitting cargo pants and a polo shirt that should have been another size up and not tucked in. Both wore New Balance sneakers, and not the ever popular trail running variety, but the let�s dress for comfort as we walk the mall in our matching track suit variety. After their inspection, the agent managed to keep the sneer off her face and a note of compassion in her voice (which endeared me to her) as she told them that the First Class cabin was full, as well as the exit aisles. She was then silent as their tickets finished printing.

I was actually glad they were in front of me, as they took my Friday Casual ensemble of Doc Martin wingtip oxfords in brown two tone, chocolate colored BR slacks, Pale Blue DKNY dress shirt, and a linen car coat from Perry Ellis Portfolio and elevated it to high fashion. (I know, linen does not travel well. However, it was the best jacket that I had to match what I was wearing, and I planned to have the stewardess hang it up once on the plane. They are always happy to do so. Why shove something into the overhead bin? Traveling on airplanes is wrinkling enough) So, I approached the counter with a merry sapphire twinkle in my eyes and the widest grin I could manage without it being a leer or cause me to appear simple. A wry comment got the agent to chuckle and a remark about first to Atlanta really being full or was there an upgrade to purchase, got me the coveted 4B seat. And she didn�t have to walk around the counter. Later on at the gate, the couple tried to schmooze the Gate Agent into an upgrade, but their ticket letter did not entitle them to purchase it.

I always like traveling east then west, I like that my evening flight gets in late thanks to time zones and transferring planes in Atlanta. And I like that the trip back gets me home with time to gather my wits before work on Monday. Though in this case I�m taking some vacation time. I needed some vacation time. I also enjoy the late night pick up at the airport, the lights and dark hiding the town from me until the more flattering morning, how relaxed my father is that late, and how the strange NPR type station he listens to has acoustic music and poetizing by the DJ�s. I like walking through his 1920�s mansion with all the rooms and alcoves dark save for the lights I turn on to guide my way. And I like the cold mustiness of the back bedroom I always take when I visit, the sheets fresh from the Cleaning service and the way they put out a folded towel, hand towel, and wash cloth for me. Tomorrow we are going fishing on the delta, while tonight I�m going out with my cousins. Monday I get to be on my own, where I can drive around and look at the town, enjoy how everyone romanticizes the unchangeable nature of Southern Towns when in fact it is merely the slow pace in which they move that is unchangeable, not the towns themselves. I like that I get to see it, as I visit so infrequently. I like noticing the things that the residents miss. I like to think that it makes me the unofficial historian, that I can keep the differences separate with my visits, and remember for the residents, so they don�t have to.

previous � next � older

Email Notes Guestbook

Profile