I’m Traveling again and that means hotel rooms (smoking room without high speed internet access as opposed to their advertisement) and all of the fun that goes with strange towns. Actually I enjoy traveling, I mean this trip is an exception (I think I’m going to have words with the manager about deceptive advertising), most of the time you see new places, meet new people and get to spend time catching up on your reading. While traveling there is no trash to take out, no laundry to get done, but there is work and all of the troubles that go with life on the road. Delayed flights, boring car rides, rude people and high speed runs through airports are just some of the things you encounter on your way to your destination.
But the thing is I’ve gotten good at it. I’ve even come to take pride in the fact I’m good at it. Of course I have had a lot of training. My Dad was an airline pilot; so when other kids were driving that summer to the state park…we were off to Europe (after all it was the same cost to us). So I learned the art of travel. Negotiating through airports, trains, maps and taxis in foreign countries. I’ve gotten to know London, Paris and Frankfort as well as most people know their grandparents home town.
So without a doubt I have the travel bug. Neighbors ask me where to park at the airport. Friends ask the best hotel to stay when in Boston, New York or Charleston. And I usually know the answer. But with being good at traveling also comes a little bit of annoyance with those who are not. People in Airports who try to impress others with their knowledge of airplanes (when they don’t have a clue) bug me. People who walk out of airplanes and just stop, oblivious to the rest of the departing passengers bug me. People who don’t know the ‘stand to the right, walk to the left’ rule when on escalators and moving walkways bug me.
But most of all, in the post 9/11 age, people who delay, don’t understand and unnecessarily complain about security bug me. Most people stand in the security line for hours, not even thinking about what is to come; then almost act surprised as they slowly empty their pockets. They place their coins, cell phones, gum, shoes, keys, watches, rings, PDA’s, beer tabs (how did that get there), lipstick, and everything else in their pockets into a bin (one bin for each item, it seems). While I, who have placed everything metal in my briefcase (take note…this is the proper thing to do…put it into your bag…you have the whole line to put it in there and the whole rest of the trip to get it out…do we really need to watch you count your change into individual bins…), wait for my turn to go through the line. And they wonder why the line takes so long.
Of course my obsession with being a seasoned traveler is not without its own faults. I finally emptied the pocket of my suitcase that I always put my pocket change into. I could have paid off a small nation’s debt. I’m wondering how I carried that bag around without noticing the extra 34 lbs. worth of change. The jingling noise alone should have been deafening. Well at least traveling will be easier now that I have gotten rid of that extra weight. Now maybe I can use the money to buy some internet access at a Starbucks…or maybe I could just buy a small phone company.
No comments:
Post a Comment