Self-Fulfilling Expectations
Monica and I arrive at the airport at 6:45 a.m. and put our jackets in the suitcase. We check our bag, which weighs 57 pounds. The limit is two bags per person, or 200 pounds total. But our one bag is over the limit. We remove the jackets, the bag weighs 51 pounds, and the bag is checked for New York without any oversize fee.
We go to a sandwich shop to buy lunch, as airlines don't feed people anymore. I show Monica a printout of the fifty or so tourist attractions that our NY Pass covers. Monica asks me to look up "Madame Tussaud's." I remove the cell phone from my backpack and discover it is a chain of wax museums.
We use the rest rooms. We board the plane with newspapers, jackets and the backpack. I place my jacket overhead.
Midway through the flight, I look for my cell phone. It is not in the backpack. It is not in the jacket. It must still be at the gate. I write a note with my name, cell phone number, flight number and gate number and give it to the flight attendent. "We don't do that, she says. You will have to deal with someone once we land."
Monica knows that I didn't leave the phone at the sandwich shop. (She is good at making sure areas are secure before we go.) I remember something dropping as I picked up my jacket off of the chair next to gate E9. The phone has to be at the gate, or maybe in the restroom next to the gate.
Both of us blame Continental for the fifty pound per piece baggage limit, since the phone does not fall out of the jacket if the jacket is in the suitcase.
Monica blames herself for having me remove the phone from my backpack to look up "Madame Tussaud." She asks if I blame her too. I smile and have to admit it.
"Why don't you call my cell phone?" "Now? Cellphones are not allowed now."
"I lost it because I want an i-Phone." "Of course you did."
"Please call my cell phone," I ask, as our plane stops at the gate.
"I heard something." "I did, too."
"Try that again."
It is not overhead with the jacket. It is under the seat in front of me.
The phone may have fallen from the jacket, when the jacket was placed in the overhead. More likely, the phone was knocked lose from the backpack, not fully closed.
We blame the airline for messing with us too early in the morning. Even if it was not their fault, it still was.
We go to a sandwich shop to buy lunch, as airlines don't feed people anymore. I show Monica a printout of the fifty or so tourist attractions that our NY Pass covers. Monica asks me to look up "Madame Tussaud's." I remove the cell phone from my backpack and discover it is a chain of wax museums.
We use the rest rooms. We board the plane with newspapers, jackets and the backpack. I place my jacket overhead.
Midway through the flight, I look for my cell phone. It is not in the backpack. It is not in the jacket. It must still be at the gate. I write a note with my name, cell phone number, flight number and gate number and give it to the flight attendent. "We don't do that, she says. You will have to deal with someone once we land."
Monica knows that I didn't leave the phone at the sandwich shop. (She is good at making sure areas are secure before we go.) I remember something dropping as I picked up my jacket off of the chair next to gate E9. The phone has to be at the gate, or maybe in the restroom next to the gate.
Both of us blame Continental for the fifty pound per piece baggage limit, since the phone does not fall out of the jacket if the jacket is in the suitcase.
Monica blames herself for having me remove the phone from my backpack to look up "Madame Tussaud." She asks if I blame her too. I smile and have to admit it.
"Why don't you call my cell phone?" "Now? Cellphones are not allowed now."
"I lost it because I want an i-Phone." "Of course you did."
"Please call my cell phone," I ask, as our plane stops at the gate.
"I heard something." "I did, too."
"Try that again."
It is not overhead with the jacket. It is under the seat in front of me.
The phone may have fallen from the jacket, when the jacket was placed in the overhead. More likely, the phone was knocked lose from the backpack, not fully closed.
We blame the airline for messing with us too early in the morning. Even if it was not their fault, it still was.
Labels: travel
posted by David Rasmussen at 7:47 PM
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