Common sense is in short supply — especially at our nation’s airports.
I realize everyone is in a hurry. Airlines make flying about as glamorous as boarding a filthy greyhound bus headed to Detroit. Traveling takes nearly twice as long as it should because passengers have go through the equivalent of rectal exam.
Flying is stressful. And at the end of your long flight, the thing we desire most is a lifeline, which is our baggage.
Hopefully, our bags arrive — signed, sealed, delivered — which is followed by a smooth trip either home or to the hotel.
Too bad, it’s not that easy.
* * *
Yesterday, I reached the boiling point.
At the Miami airport, I just arrived from a long five-hour cross-country flight. There’s always an unspoken joy each time you disembark from a flight. Being able to breath fresh air again is nice. To get circulation back into your legs. But nothing beats getting up and leaving the non-stop talker that just told you his life story while you’ve traveled 3,500 miles.
If there’s joy in getting off the plane, there’s even greater anticipation once you arrive at the baggage claim. Having had airlines lose my bags four times over the past ten years, I now realize that airports are nothing more than casinos for travelers. But instead of chips and cash — it’s time and possessions on the line. It’s the rush of placing chips on a number and waiting for the little spinning ball to land on the roulette wheel. Eventually, everyone’s number comes and up at some point, and so we all get fucked by having to wear the same set of dirty clothes for three days while the airline “investigates” why your bag ended up in Paraguay.
Oh, let’s get back to what happened yesterday in Miami. Check out these photos, which gives you some idea of what’s to come.Read More