Gate 3
I’ve written many words about airport stuff in the past- people watching, speaker phone talkers, Dunkin sips, stitching while waiting. I’ve shared snippets of my TSA trials and smiles-the time I forgot I had gifts of Rhode Island beer and vodka in my carry-on bag, the time I waited a weirdly long time while they swabbed my stroop waffles, the time I “alerted” and needed a pat-me-down search because my “crotch read hot” (lesson learned, don’t wear button-fly jeans on planes) the time I was told I smelled good, like French toast.
Not today. From condo to airport through bag check and security to gate 3 in 23 minutes and I think the only words spoken to me were, “lower your mask” when checking my identity. The gate is today’s new version of full-empty seats separating travelers. I can tell it’s a full flight. I remember being a little girl, getting dressed up for flights to Florida to see Grandpa Fredricksen and Grandma Julie. I remember doing my hair 9 or 10 year old cute with a fancy floral comb holding the left side of my hair up, my bangs swooshed to the right. Hmmm… funny that it’s the left I now keep super cropped and the right still swooshes. There are some gate 3 travelers looking amazing this Saturday morning, but there are others looking amazingly comfortable (gold star if you are laughing at the image of a v-neck tshirt in your mind right now) in their sweats and flannel pajama bottoms??? The guy next to me is in comfortable joggers and crew, athletic and presentable. He has, however, taken his shoes off, pulled his cap over his eyes and is splayed as much as possible in his chair. His rumble purrs increase as he somehow reclines further. Behind me is a woman on the phone. Thankfully she is not a speaker phone talker. But she has her volume waaaaay up. All she says is “HUH??!!!” and “just wow.” In my mind, she has mussed salt and pepper hair, severe glasses attached by a chain, a much loved cardigan and capri pants with Naturalizer loafers that match her taupe many-zippered purse. I don’t look because I’m invested in my imaginings. Across from me is a mom with an empty stroller. Her toddler is toddling about with his iPad. Wearing the most adorable midnight blue velour track suit available in 2T, he has a perfect fade, new kicks and a gold chain. This kid looks good and his swagger tells me he knows it. His mama is busy on her phone. Her nails are bejeweled and I know that under her mask, her lips are sticked. She is jaw drop beautiful. Someone at the gate is snacking on crumply bag snacks. I’m imagining Cheetos. Goodness Cheetos are orange-finger lickin’ good. I really crave them some days. I think crumply bag snacks are at the top of my “annoy me with…” list. Especially the single serve size. They produce a disproportionate amount of noise per snack bite. Crumple crumple crumple, snack. Crumple crumple crumple, snack. They shouldn’t be allowed in quiet spaces. When I am present. The end. Time to crochet.
*disclaimer* gold stars are redeemable for absolutely nothing.
Addendum: many stitches later we boarded. The crumple on planes has lessened, practically disappeared, without the pretzels/cookies/stroop giveaway. But alas, the M&Ms across the aisle are on my last nerve. I might be hangry.
Second addendum: another flight costume lesson. Jumpsuits have been added to the do not wear list. I know this. I wore one on New Year’s Eve and had to hang it on the back of the bathroom door at The Providence G. Now pondering why I own like 8 jumpsuits…
Third addendum: poncho finished. I think I loop and pull faster sitting on a plane than sitting on my couch.
