Waiting

Remember the old school over-sized golf carts that were driven around airports and picked up the elderly, families with lots of kids, and anyone random when they were bored? Well they are everywhere in the Minneapolis airport!

I had two hours to kill between flights today and slowly meandered my way from one end of the airport to the other. The airport was virtually empty. And I had to dive out of the way to save my life at least 5 times between gates. The cart guys would drive a few years, turn around and drive back. And then they’d pull up next to each other in cart gangs and shoot the shit.

I made a few cursory calls during the walk and noticed that my battery was getting low. I don’t really want to arrive at an empty, large office building at 1a without a working phone, so I hunted down an outlet when I arrived at my gate. Only problem – all of the outlets were on poles that were nowhere near the seating areas. So I plunked my stuff down and am resting up against a pole slightly in the middle of the walkway while I charge up.

I’m in between gates, so not in the way of people getting on and off the plane. And my stuff sticks out a bit around the pole, so you can’t miss me from the other side. Besides, I’m wearing a day-glo blue polo. I stick out like a sore thumb. But still, I’m in danger of losing a limb!

As I’m sitting here, two carts pull up and stop right in front of me, effectively blocking the entire walkway so that the people getting off the plane about 50 feet from me can’t get around them at all. And I’m about a foot and a half behind one of the carts so that people can’t dodge behind them. And what are they doing? Chatting. Are you kidding me?! All the while ignoring the woman with a foot problem who is struggling to walk just 3 feet in front of them. You have to wonder – how does one get a job like that?

Speaking of airports, read an interesting article in “Time” magazine about London Heathrow’s homeless problem. Apparently, the latest thing to do is move into the airport and pretend to be a stranded traveler. The people who are doing this go so far as to acquire fanny packs and Hawaiian shirts and carry their booty in duty free bags. The airport has started a coalition to seek out the homeless in the airports . . . wait, here goes another cart, but this one is creeeeeeping by me . . . and counsel them on their options for getting help. Sadly, they identified a ratty looking pair hunched in a corner in a men’s bathroom. They were using the only outlet they could find, much like I am at this moment, to play their handheld video game. And they had tickets to LAX. How crappy would you feel?

Alright, back to waiting . . .