What a whirlwind of a day and a half. Okay, really a late night, day and another late night. 1000 miles there and back again. Check in and check out within 6 hours. Rental car for about 20 total miles.
I packed so light that I thought I’d forgotten something when I left for home. I’m so used to having more stuff and staying longer.
First, the journey: Plane to San Diego leaving just after 9 pm and arriving midnight. It’s only a half-hour drive to the airport so I plan my leaving to get there about 105 minutes before. No sweat. Easy packing and anxiety under control. Have some things to read on the iPad, tunes and podcasts on the iPhone.
Hiccup 1 (Minor). We realize that I’m returning after midnight the next night and my wife has to be up early. Last minute decision to park at airport. Subtract 20 minutes for finding parking and taking shuttle. Anxiety a little higher but manageable. In the back of my mind I know this is the last plane I can take and get there in time for this very important and mandatory evaluation.
Hiccup 2 (Moderate). I get on the freeway and realize I’ve forgotten to pack meds for the morning. After a brief internal debate- okay, I was talking out loud to myself- I get off on the next exit and double back home. Subtract another 15 minutes. Quickly kiss my wife again and- focussing on breathing- head back out on the road. Traffic is light and parking is easy. I probably gain about 5 minutes back. That said, I did get a text from Alaska Airlines on my way to the airport….
Hiccup 3 (Severe). That text is telling me about a security incident and to plan on arriving to the airport earlier than normal. Trying not to freak out I tell myself that I’m there in plenty of time. I have TSA precheck and it will be fine.
Breathe…it will be fine.
Wait…the shuttle just left? Okay. Subtract another 5 minutes. I’m reassured another is coming soon.
On to the parking shuttle. I register the presence of other people distantly. I mean, I saw there were people on the shuttle already, I just didn’t think about what that means. As I’m working on strategizing navigating the airport and wondering what the security incident is I notice the shuttle is stopping earlier than the airport.
Another lot. Of course, these folks are all at a different lot than mine. Thankfully they all get out in two stops. Only another 5 minutes lost. Anxiety? Surprisingly about the same. The shuttle driver remarks on all the traffic going into the airport, “this is weird.” I get off at the first stop- Alaska- the extreme northern end of the airport.
I walk quickly- the closest someone of my average height will get to striding- to the escalator and across the bridge into the terminal. As I get to the departures level I come face to face with a man in uniform- his thumbs hitched under his bullet-proof vest. The pose of a man that is just past a critical event and is protecting the “mopping up.” A group of us are told we need to go out the terminal and down to the next entrance- “it’s only 100 yards away.” and enter there.
I turn and see a mass of humanity to my south. I quickly grab my bag and stride (I’m definitely striding now) down the terminal’s outside. I enter the door and am immediately greeted by a near impenetrable wall. These are people checking in and checking bags! Yeah! I’m doing neither. Hitting holes like a running back I make my way to the security station behind the counters….
Closed. Crickets.
Okay. Now my anxiety is rising. I’m starting to sweat. Tachycardia and narrow visual focus. Not a panic attack but a lot of questioning the universe under my breath. Heisman trophy winning style of negotiating the crowd I make my way to the center of the airport- no precheck line here and “45 minutes to get to security”. Looking at the line I think this is an underestimation. I’m told that precheck is at security gate one. I’m at 3.
Still with dogged determination I make my way to security gate 1, popping into the ticketing part of the airport to dodge the crowd only to come face to face with an airport worker holding a sign and repeating over and over: “TSA precheck starts here.” And she’s repeatedly answering the same question over an over, “about 20 minutes.” A quick look at my watch tells me my plane starts boarding in less than 30 minutes.
Here’s where inspiration strikes me. I have Clear! I’ve never used it. Told that there is a Clear station down by gate 1 I break the line and scurry to the machines. I go through it quickly and am at security. I have to wait for a woman to slowly unbutton and unfasten her overcoat before I can get to the detector.
Beep! Beep! “You’ve been randomly selected for additional screening.” This is the third time in a row at SeaTac for me, by the way. No worries, through I go. A glance at my watch tells me I have 20 minutes until boarding starts. Gate? North satellite. Where am I? A gates. The extreme southern end of the airport.
Okay. Let’s get walking.
I almost immediately run into a wall of people. I look up and see a sign telling me that I can take a train to transfer to the N gates. I hurry down to the train and after waiting for a couple of minutes I get on the train.
17 minutes to go and now I need to use the bathroom.
I get lucky and immediately board the train to N satellite. Second stop. Out I go and up the escalator. I find the bathroom and- whew!. Let’s just say I needed that and now there are only 5 minutes to start of boarding.
I breathe several sighs of relief and settle into my seat on the plane. Although stomach is still upset- I’m on the plane. I’m on the plane. I’m on the…
Arrival and evaluation tomorrow…
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