The airport (Orlando) was packed with travelers yesterday. I left extra early, never sure what traffic will be like. I got there two hours early, didn’t check a bag, and sailed through security. Plenty of time for a cup of coffee and maybe a snack.
Never mind. Eighty people were lined up at the Starbucks. I’ll just sit and read a little. I walked down to Gate 7, found a seat, and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Gate change. Gate 84.
<Sigh.> I walked back to the tram, got back to terminal A, and discovered I needed to go to B terminal. So I had to leave the secure area and go through security a second time. Give me a break.
The security going into terminal B was jam packed. Estimated wait time: one hour. I could still make the flight. I took a deep breath, picked a line, and prepared myself to wait.
And wait I did. The lines barely moved for the next 45 minutes. TSA must have been understaffed. Only three agents were checking IDs for about 500 people in line. Beyond them only one scanner was being used.
The lady ahead of me had a flight leaving about the same time as mine. She said, “There’s no way we’re going to make it.”
I said, “I think we’ve got time. Let’s be glass half-full. We could be those folks” and I nodded towards the lines that stretched a hundred feet back.
Well, we didn’t have time. I finally got through and onto the tram with five minutes to go. I don’t know how she made out, but I made it before the door closed. I put my belt back on after I sat down, grateful to be on board.
Actually, the plane waited another half-hour for passengers because of the gate change and very slow security.
Maybe that’s what hell is like. You just keep going through security over and over and over again.