“Home.” I think as I push the revolving door and enter La Guardia. I guess most people probably don’t think that way about an airport, but I do. Comforting, inviting, full of possibility, but most of all they’re familiar. I know my way around them – the best cafes, cheapest place to buy water and the least crowded bathrooms. I can also tell you the quickest route to the security check in that avoids the masses, plus which line to get in. That’s probably the most important thing for me on an early Monday morning flight, the start of the commuter week and, on this occasion, the start of summer holidays. In the New York City airport rush hour, travelers are clearly divided into two categories; rookies vs. frequent fliers. Picking the right security line is essential to avoid excess delays and frustartion. I cling to the NY suits-they navigate security with precise, professional efficiency – shoes off, laptops out, no loose change and rarely a belt. By contrast getting behind the woman clutching an oversized pillow swaddled in pink is a precarious situation. Last year I even encountered an airport in Australia that had an ‘Experienced Travelers Only” line. It was defined as people who travel 2-3 times a month. Yep, give me a line full of briefcase, laptops and pinstripes any day…. And so I breeze right through.
The unnerving thing this morning is CNN’s non-stop broadcast of a missing Air France plane. People really pay attention to that tuuf in an airport. You can feel the energy shift from excitement to nervousness – the gate area is dead quiet, everyone’s focused on the tv. I’ve yet to see a follow up story, but I assume it can’t good.
No comments:
Post a Comment