1:39 p.m. - Mar. 06, 2002
New York morning
I am determined to have a good day today. It didn�t start out that way. It�s only 9AM, yet I�ve been up for 4 � rough hours already. That�s right - I woke up at 4:30AM. I am not a morning person, but I do fairly well. As long as everything is done and I don�t actually have to think about anything, I do ok in the mornings.
On my way to New York, 7:55AM flight. I got to the gate area early, after hiking from terminal C to the IAB Building, gate D9. Damn, could it be any farther away? Still - I was running on schedule, the security lines were short � so, no worries. As I sat there, my stomach started growling, �Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.� I had so much stuff with me, I almost opted not to go get food, just to save the hassle of having to lug all of my stuff through the airport. My stomach insisted that it couldn�t wait. I chose to oblige.
I should�ve known. I should�ve seen the signs. When you walk into any kind of restaurant and no one is smiling (even in the wee hours of morn); you should turn around and walk out. I should�ve walked out when I saw that there was only one waitress working and hardly anyone actually had food on their table. But, I stayed. There really wasn�t any other place to eat and I didn�t have much time; they should begin boarding my flight in a matter of minutes. It took her almost twenty minutes to bring me a menu. When she sat it down, I told her I was ready to order. Still, she made me wait; there were other customers ahead of me. She added, as if I was the problem, that she �Had a very difficult customer over there.� (I�m thinking you�re gonna have another one if you don�t feed me soon). I ordered something simple. Surprisingly, the food was delivered quicker than I anticipated. My English muffin tasted like the sole of my shoe (about the same texture, too). She never brought my coffee. Or any water. Or asked if I needed ANYTHING. Yeah, how �bout my check? When she sat down my food, I asked for my bill, thinking I was never going to see her again. Even though the place was packed, she stood around, talking to the bartender, the cook, another waitress that just walked in the door. It was another 10 - 15 minutes before she brought my check. I didn�t leave a tip. I always leave a tip. But, not this time. I am not very sweet when I�m hungry. But, without food AND caffeine�well, that�s an entirely different story. Stand back folks, she�s frothing at the mouth.
When I got back to the gate area, the boarding process had begun. As I stood there, waiting for them to call my row, I realized that I didn�t have my jacket. Must�ve left it back at the restaurant. Great � I didn�t tip her and now I have to walk all the way back down there and ask her for my jacket. But, it wasn�t there. I didn�t completely remember the last time that I had it on me. I ran back to the gate area. No one had turned it in. Think, think, think � where could it be? The caffeine had finally made it to my brain and the morning fog was just beginning to lift just as I was about to enter the jetway. I had to board the flight. There was no time to do anything else. On my way to NYC without a coat, in the winter. I�m thinking that it�s Karma � I should�ve tipped the waitress.
While standing in line, the lady behind me asked me where I was sitting. I don�t know her, I hadn�t been talking with her - so, why does she want to know where I�m sitting? I answered blankly, �Row 19.�
�Row 19, what?�
�19 L.� (It�s a damn good seat, for being in coach. I assigned it myself. Exit row, lots of leg-room).
She says that she�s sitting in row 22 (three freakin rows behind me) and adds that sitting in the WAY BACK, makes her SEASICK. She grips her belly and crunches up her forehead, feigning sickness. (I thought about pointing out to her that we weren�t going to be anywhere near water, so she really shouldn�t have to worry about being SEASICK), but I decided to just let it go. She asked me if I would trade seats with her. Are you nuts, lady? Do you think I�m stupid? I mean, you�re three freakin rows back from me; do you really think it�s going to make ANY difference, at all? Besides, this is a 767-900, and row 22 is NOT in the back of the plane. I just smiled and replied, �I�d rather not.�
Then, for the first time ever, I was asked to step aside, to be �wanded� by security. Remove your shoes, bags on the table, legs and arms out. They went through everything, but were really nice about it. One of the two asked me, �Hey, you like Destiny�s Child?� (I hadn�t really thought about it and wondered why he was asking me). Then I saw that he was holding an unopened Destiny�s Child CD, which he had just pulled from my bag. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Must�ve been in my bag for weeks. Free CD, c/o BMG (or one of those entertainment accounts), they occasionally send us little freebies. I was meaning to give it to Adam�s daughters, but just forgot.
Ok, drama over. I�m on the flight, in my exit row seat, on my way to my favorite city, New York. Love it, baby! I�m looking forward to spending three days away from the office, in New York, hotel and meals paid.
I am determined to have a good day.
