I had the best of intentions when it came to writing a blog post or two during our European vacation, but alas, I failed miserably. The fact is, I was too excited to get each and every day started, didn’t make it back to the hotel until late and oftentimes I wasn’t exactly sober. All in all, I’d say our Christmas vacation was a success, which is great, because it didn’t necessarily start out that way.
I have a habit of getting to the airport early, in order to avoid any issues or surprises that may pop up. We started for the airport at about 5 p.m., anticipating that we would hit some nasty pockets during rush hour as we made our way to the airport halfway across town. Traffic was surprisingly mild, however, and we ended up making it to the airport with about 4 hours to spare before our flight. We got checked in and made our way to the security checkpoint, expecting to stand around for half an hour, as there never seems to be enough security lanes open when we fly. Again, we made it up to security and through almost instantly. What luck, right? Well, that’s where our luck took a bit of a shit.
We’re on the other side of the security checkpoint gathering our things, when Lee realizes he doesn’t have his ticket or his passport anymore. I immediately became super agitated, and here’s why:
- I have very little patience
- Lee has a habit of forgetting things at an airport.
We’ve lost a phone and wallet(which were recovered), a camera, a computer (which was recovered) and most recently (as in, on this trip), an umbrella. Granted, I myself am incredibly absent-minded in the mornings when I’m leaving for work, and if it weren’t for Lee going through a checklist with me every morning, I’d probably forget something everyday. But if I forget my wallet, that just means I don’t eat lunch that day. It doesn’t mean I’m in jeopardy of not being able to leave the country. So, I become agitated, because I’m annoyed that this is happening again, but also, because if he can’t find his passport, neither of us are going on this trip. I would never dream of leaving without him, but I also don’t want to be put in a situation where I have to make that decision.
We tear apart his carry-on, rifle through all of his pockets; it’s nowhere to be found. We go through the stack of empty bins to make sure it hasn’t been left in one by mistake. It’s not there. At this point, we decide to get security involved. Lee pulls a TSA employee aside and explains that he thinks he may have left his passport on the other side. Lee can’t go and check himself of course, as he would have to way to get back through security, so he relies on the kindness of a stranger. The stranger peeks his head over the partition, glances quickly, states that the passport is not there, and walks away. Awesome. Thanks, Brah.
Lee tries with another TSA agent who tells him to check the security desk. It’s not there either. We try to get another agent or two to give a shit about the fact that our trip is ruined if this doesn’t get sorted, before I finally decide to exit and re-enter the airport so I can scour the area myself. I run through the terminal, to the exit, down the stairs and then up the escalator to the security area. I approach an agent on that side of the wall and explain the situation. She tells me that she hasn’t seen it, but she knows there’s another employee looking for it. Finally! Someone cares.
I wait in line for my turn to go through security, because of course, now it’s gotten a bit busier. As I’m taking off my shoes to place them in the bin, I see Lee out of the corner of my eye, waving wildly. He gives me a thumbs up, and I immediately relax a little. I’m still really anxious about the whole ordeal, but at least we know that we can get on the plane.
I make my way through security again, only to be pulled aside this time for a good old-fashioned frisking. Because, of course.
Lee ended up determining that in a very odd and (I’m assuming) incredibly rare, twist of fate, Lee’s passport and ticket managed to fall out of the bin as it was traveling down the belt, and fell in between the slats of the belt. Lee was finally able to get an employee to look underneath the conveyor belt, and voila. That’s where it was.
After a very stressful and anxious half-hour, we made our way to the Delta club lounge, where I made it my mission to drink enough vodka to forget the whole debacle even happened. I didn’t exactly accomplish my mission, but after 4 vodka sodas I definitely cared a little bit less.
I chose to look at our security fiasco as a mere blip in what would be an otherwise perfect trip. Everything, from that point on, would be exactly as we had imagined it would be, if not better.
And luckily, I was right.