I should have been back Wednesday night. Something weather-related happened somewhere in the Eastern part of the country (I never did figure out exactly what), and all of Southwest’s flights into Baltimore-Washington Airport were delayed. We would never make the connecting flight to Jacksonville had we left Long Island. I’m sure Baltimore is a nice town, based on what little of it I’ve seen. But staying at the parental units’ house for free one more night seemed like a more economical idea. Our baggage went on its merry way, which meant the daughter and I had to wear the same clothes and do the old brush-teeth-with-finger routine. Thank goodness Mom had a washing machine and plenty of mouthwash.
Of course, the flight in last night was no picnic. First, the daughter was already hobbled after re-twisting her already-sprained ankle on Tuesday night, coming out of a performance of Wicked on Broadway with her aunt. This mishap required a drive into the city from Long Island late Tuesday night to retrieve her, as she would have been unable to negotiate the four-floor walk up of her aunt’s East Side flat. The folks at New York Presbyterian Hospital couldn’t have been nicer (having insurance helps, trust me), but they provided her with a pair of crutches that were too big for her 5’6″ frame. This required getting wheelchairs and preboarding at the airport.
We were running late for the rescheduled flight last night due to long check-in lines, then had to submit to that extra security check on the way to the gate. The TSA security guy who wanded us was, I suppose as he said, trying to “do his job,” in spite of my protestations that we’d miss our flight. I also don’t like to get personal here, but he also had an issue with body odor, which either meant that airport is very hot, or he’s one of those guys that needs to be secretly told to use a strong deodorant. I was pretty hostile about being delayed, to the point where he threatened to call the cops over (which, along with Kaitie’s pleading, shut me up in a hurry). I even used the “I work for the Department of Defense” card after he dropped the “I’m only doing what the government tells me” card on me, but he wasn’t impressed.
Needless to say, we made the gate as the plane was boarding, and the SWA gate lady allowed us right on the plane (a child in a wheelchair is a ticket to anything…) and the rest of the passengers on the line were very nice about letting us jump the line. By the time we got to Baltimore, she had given up on using the crutches and managed to hobble her way through the airport without any real discomfort. We actually thought of abandoning the crutches at one of the terminals or just leaving them in the overhead on the plane, but I had these visions of the airline calling security and blowing them up in case they turned out to be some cleverly-disguised weapon. They’re still out in the back of my pickup.
I need a few hours to catch my breath and get the already-overgrown lawn mowed.
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