what i did on my vacation by babe, part II
I’ve always tried to be the kind stranger that people depended upon. but lately, I’ve been the one in need of kindness. It's rather uncomfortable for me to be that helpless. But right now, I’d be sobbing hysterically in a toilet in the Minneapolis airport if it weren't for the kindness of strangers.
Last Wednesday I went to Tucson to pick up my mother to move her back to Michigan. We were going pick up her cats at the vet Thursday morning and fly home. Well, it started out pretty good. I had the best plane ride of my life going down. i had the row to myself, the weather was perfect, the scenery breath taking, and the desert was emerald green from all the rain. had a great view of Tucson coming in, found the rental car without any problems, made it out to Mum's without getting lost. She seemed eager to go. We moved to a motel for the night rather than squeeze into her friend's apartment. Mum had been staying with Katie for a week after the furniture was picked up by the movers. We got up at the crack of dawn. The motel had hard-boiled eggs on the breakfast buffet besides all the usually carby crap. (I took this as a good sign.) We got to the vet's just as they were coming back from coffee, the cats were already sedated and we got them into the carriers without so much as a meow. We made it to the airport in plenty of time. I unloaded Mum, the cats and the luggage and took the car back.
Then, as the old movie poster said, things started to go worng....
The flight was cancelled due to bad weather in Chicago. There I was with mum, two drugged cats, no car, no place to stay, no flight. We had to go today, now! So here comes the first stranger. And I never even saw her. As I stood at the end of the line starting to panic, the ticket agents passed out the 800 number for the airline with instructions to call and start the rebooking process before we got to the head of the line. Someone at American Airline had already rebooked us - cats and all - before I even called to 800 number. All I had to do was get Mum (in a wheelchair), 2 rolllie suitcases, a rollie cat carrier (with the 16 pound cat, Charlie) the other cat carrier (with the 12 pound cat, Lady), her carryon bag and a couple purses all the way to the other end of the ticketing terminal. Another kind stranger helped managed the suitcases and Charlie, while I pushed Mum with Lady and the purses and carryon in her lap. we got to Northwest, got boarding passes, collected Seth, the official airport wheelchair pusher and went off up the hill (yes, there really is a half a story hill) up to security.
I love Seth, I want to marry Seth. He’s my favorite stranger. He stayed with Mum while I went through security. I had to take Charlie out of his carrier so it could be x-rayed and then carry him through the metal detector. Then both of us (me and the cat) got patted down because somehow we were flagged to extra screening. Don’t you always feel a fool, hopping around in stocking feet trying to look totally innocent even though you are totally innocent. My little TSA agent and I were going to circle back so I could take Lady through the metal detector but Seth had already done that and gotten her stuff x-rayed. Seth was a rock. Seth got a big tip.
So then we waited two hours, then got on the plane and off we go to the Twin Cities. Where it’s raining and hailing and warnings are being issued. We circle the airport for an extra 45 minutes, bouncing around so much people were throwing up because the pilot doesn’t like the look of the radar (that was about the time a tornado touched down), finally we land. I figure out our gate and we sit in the blue handicapped chairs to wait for one of the golf carts to take up to the A terminal. All the carts say C or D or G, no A. We sit. We do, after all, now have a 3 hour layover.Next to us is an elderly lady from our flight traveling alone. She is upset. Why are we doing this? She doesn’t want any help. Don’t touch her! She’s going to Fargo, why is she here instead? She is obviously confused, if not out right demented, and a little belligerent –batting at people trying to take her arm as she staggers around refusing to use her walker. She is scaring my mum. And the only bigger mystery than why she is all alone, is why did the airline let her board? Anyway, while I’m attempting to calm her down (a useless effort), another kind stranger steps up, literally.
The lady in the raincoat realizes we all are waiting for a golf cart to go to another terminal. The golf carts are whizzing by and none are stopping even through we are in the blue handicapped seats. So this bravest kind stranger steps in front of one of the carts and demands he stop and take us to A terminal. His cart says C and D. he points that out to the bravest kind stranger but that doesn’t cut any ice with her. She demands he take us. He drives away. She is about to run after him when the last kind stranger, a young golf cart driver on his way to go home says he will take us. We get all loaded up with some difficulty as Miss Fargo did not want to be manhandled and where were we taking her? Waved good by to the bravest kind stranger and zip off a mile and a quarter to C terminal to drop miss Fargo off at C10. She is still complaining when golf cart comes to a halt at C13. it seems the Fargo gate has been changed. Miss Fargo is not happy. She keeps waving the scrape of paper with C10 on it and demanding to be taken there. Golf cart stranger takes 5 minutes to talk her out of the cart and deliver her to the gate agent. My mother looks at me and says “please don’t ever do that to me.”
Away we go again to the very end border of terminal C and stop. The carts don’t do to terminal A (it’s not on the same level, it’s a story down). I never knew that. I would still be waiting for a golf cart labeled A. We unload. Golf cart stranger finds a wheelchair pusher to take us to the gate, and he drives off into the sunset.
The rest of the story is pretty anticlimactic. Except for the tornado warning urging us to take shelter and stay away from windows (this while we were sitting in a gate area with floor to ceiling glass on three sides) and the flight being pushed back from 8:30 to 10:45. we finally got home at 1:30am. The cats had been in the carriers without food, water or a potty break for at least 14 hours. I unzip the carriers sure they would either cower in the carrier and refuse to come out or make a wild mad dash and hid under the bed forever. But neither happens. both Charlie and Lady stroll out, bump up against Mum, demand to be petted and curl up on the bed purring, completely untraumatized. So maybe there is a kind stranger for cats too.
Last Wednesday I went to Tucson to pick up my mother to move her back to Michigan. We were going pick up her cats at the vet Thursday morning and fly home. Well, it started out pretty good. I had the best plane ride of my life going down. i had the row to myself, the weather was perfect, the scenery breath taking, and the desert was emerald green from all the rain. had a great view of Tucson coming in, found the rental car without any problems, made it out to Mum's without getting lost. She seemed eager to go. We moved to a motel for the night rather than squeeze into her friend's apartment. Mum had been staying with Katie for a week after the furniture was picked up by the movers. We got up at the crack of dawn. The motel had hard-boiled eggs on the breakfast buffet besides all the usually carby crap. (I took this as a good sign.) We got to the vet's just as they were coming back from coffee, the cats were already sedated and we got them into the carriers without so much as a meow. We made it to the airport in plenty of time. I unloaded Mum, the cats and the luggage and took the car back.
Then, as the old movie poster said, things started to go worng....
The flight was cancelled due to bad weather in Chicago. There I was with mum, two drugged cats, no car, no place to stay, no flight. We had to go today, now! So here comes the first stranger. And I never even saw her. As I stood at the end of the line starting to panic, the ticket agents passed out the 800 number for the airline with instructions to call and start the rebooking process before we got to the head of the line. Someone at American Airline had already rebooked us - cats and all - before I even called to 800 number. All I had to do was get Mum (in a wheelchair), 2 rolllie suitcases, a rollie cat carrier (with the 16 pound cat, Charlie) the other cat carrier (with the 12 pound cat, Lady), her carryon bag and a couple purses all the way to the other end of the ticketing terminal. Another kind stranger helped managed the suitcases and Charlie, while I pushed Mum with Lady and the purses and carryon in her lap. we got to Northwest, got boarding passes, collected Seth, the official airport wheelchair pusher and went off up the hill (yes, there really is a half a story hill) up to security.
I love Seth, I want to marry Seth. He’s my favorite stranger. He stayed with Mum while I went through security. I had to take Charlie out of his carrier so it could be x-rayed and then carry him through the metal detector. Then both of us (me and the cat) got patted down because somehow we were flagged to extra screening. Don’t you always feel a fool, hopping around in stocking feet trying to look totally innocent even though you are totally innocent. My little TSA agent and I were going to circle back so I could take Lady through the metal detector but Seth had already done that and gotten her stuff x-rayed. Seth was a rock. Seth got a big tip.
So then we waited two hours, then got on the plane and off we go to the Twin Cities. Where it’s raining and hailing and warnings are being issued. We circle the airport for an extra 45 minutes, bouncing around so much people were throwing up because the pilot doesn’t like the look of the radar (that was about the time a tornado touched down), finally we land. I figure out our gate and we sit in the blue handicapped chairs to wait for one of the golf carts to take up to the A terminal. All the carts say C or D or G, no A. We sit. We do, after all, now have a 3 hour layover.Next to us is an elderly lady from our flight traveling alone. She is upset. Why are we doing this? She doesn’t want any help. Don’t touch her! She’s going to Fargo, why is she here instead? She is obviously confused, if not out right demented, and a little belligerent –batting at people trying to take her arm as she staggers around refusing to use her walker. She is scaring my mum. And the only bigger mystery than why she is all alone, is why did the airline let her board? Anyway, while I’m attempting to calm her down (a useless effort), another kind stranger steps up, literally.
The lady in the raincoat realizes we all are waiting for a golf cart to go to another terminal. The golf carts are whizzing by and none are stopping even through we are in the blue handicapped seats. So this bravest kind stranger steps in front of one of the carts and demands he stop and take us to A terminal. His cart says C and D. he points that out to the bravest kind stranger but that doesn’t cut any ice with her. She demands he take us. He drives away. She is about to run after him when the last kind stranger, a young golf cart driver on his way to go home says he will take us. We get all loaded up with some difficulty as Miss Fargo did not want to be manhandled and where were we taking her? Waved good by to the bravest kind stranger and zip off a mile and a quarter to C terminal to drop miss Fargo off at C10. She is still complaining when golf cart comes to a halt at C13. it seems the Fargo gate has been changed. Miss Fargo is not happy. She keeps waving the scrape of paper with C10 on it and demanding to be taken there. Golf cart stranger takes 5 minutes to talk her out of the cart and deliver her to the gate agent. My mother looks at me and says “please don’t ever do that to me.”
Away we go again to the very end border of terminal C and stop. The carts don’t do to terminal A (it’s not on the same level, it’s a story down). I never knew that. I would still be waiting for a golf cart labeled A. We unload. Golf cart stranger finds a wheelchair pusher to take us to the gate, and he drives off into the sunset.
The rest of the story is pretty anticlimactic. Except for the tornado warning urging us to take shelter and stay away from windows (this while we were sitting in a gate area with floor to ceiling glass on three sides) and the flight being pushed back from 8:30 to 10:45. we finally got home at 1:30am. The cats had been in the carriers without food, water or a potty break for at least 14 hours. I unzip the carriers sure they would either cower in the carrier and refuse to come out or make a wild mad dash and hid under the bed forever. But neither happens. both Charlie and Lady stroll out, bump up against Mum, demand to be petted and curl up on the bed purring, completely untraumatized. So maybe there is a kind stranger for cats too.
posted by babe at 12:41 AM
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