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badice.com ~ travel musings for the masses

The sun was finally peaking out from the clouds after a long two days of thunderstorms. He drove to the airport, hitting pockets of rain on his way. As he looked to the sky, his hopes grew that the flight would be on time. His exit was next, he signaled and drove the car up and around the flyover.

Parked in the dark and silent garage, the car was entirely too close to a van that had been poorly put there. He removed his luggage and walked toward the terminal, keeping on the lookout for a less crowded way through security. The boarding pass kiosks were empty and knowing that he was not checking bags, he made his toward them. A quick input of his information and he was on his way to the security line.

The lines grew but he grinned, glancing down at his new shoes, a pair of comfortable, sleek, slip-on loafers and knowing that his trip through the gauntlet would be easier than other’s.

As expected, security was a breeze and our valiant business traveler stopped at the electronic flight status boards to check his flight’s departure chances. His jaw dropped as he watched the departure time jump from its original time, 6:35pm to 7:00pm, then 7:30, and then finally settling at 8:15pm. Hope was still there but it was fading fast. His head lowered as he made his way to gate C-29.

Again, he was dumbfounded when he reached the gate. A throng of people had surrounded it and appeared to be preparing a siege against the gate agent’s computers. The plane they were waiting for was stuck in a far off city after being diverted away from the thunderstorms that surrounded the airport. Our business traveler walked around like a Lieutenant watching after his platoon, observing those who were tired, stranded, and had lost all morale.

A break in the crowd led him to a semi-secluded area where he could sit and watch the chaos from a distance. It reminded him of a riot, minus the throwing of rocks and the overturning of cars. He watched as aircraft slowly started to trickle toward the different gates, letting off their precious cargo of men, women, and children, all of whom looked tired and downtrodden.

As 8pm approached, the business traveler gathered his bags and walked toward the gate. The situation had not been made any better, in fact, it was worse, with even more people standing and waiting for the flight to board. The gate agents slowly started calling the rows, finally, row sixteen was called and our businessman was off to Denver…

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