Airports Any Where

Flying is personality changing. For the worse.

We left for the airport three hours before our departure time. I think we could have driven to Michigan before our La Guardia flight left the ground.

Being early puts Todd at ease, so it is not a rarity that we arrive while an earlier flight hasn’t yet boarded. He likes to relax, eat, to plug in his iPhone, be at the gate. To know that no matter what, he's at the gate.

Everything worked. We found a great parking spot. We breezed through security despite Todd's wearing a belt; lace-up shoes, a jacket, and pants with coins in the pockets. We hustled to the gate in Olympic form with hours to spare. No panicky Todd, no raging Liza in sight. Fine. Phew.

Our plane arrived late from its previous destination, Florida. Uptick in anxiety for Todd. We boarded late, there was a shortage of overhead space and the headwinds to Michigan weren't going to make the flight any shorter and smoother. Uptick two for Todd's panic. Fine. All things considered, Todd was coping nicely, sort of. I actually allowed myself to sneak a thought, that maybe, just maybe, we'd get to Michigan and our ultimate destination hassle free and on time.  If so, my traveling companion wouldn't delve irretrievably into his ultra panic mode, hands trembling and all. 

Despite a late take-off, we were pretty much hassle-free. We even hit the flying Jackpot and on our overfilled flight, had no one sitting in our middle seat. 

Arrival was not so stellar. We were late. Very late and needed to be Temple-ready and present in two hours. We had to rent a car, drive forty-five minutes to our hotel and then another twenty-five minutes to services. The math didn't work, and for Todd's organized brain this meant a system breakdown.

We walked miles through the Detroit airport to the Enterprise shuttle pick-up. Avis, Hertz, Budget, Thrifty, Dollar - no Enterprise. Finally, the shuttle arrived. We were so behind schedule, I could already hear Jack singing his Haftorah portion.

Checked in at the Enterprise homeland, Todd, luggage in-tow went to pick out our car and inspect it for damages. In minutes he was back. Ashen. Our brand new rental car with 434 miles on it, running for warmth, luggage tucked in its trunk, locked itself with both keys in the ignition. I looked at Todd and all I could muster was an, "Are you f##$%G kidding me?" Only in Detroit, the former and now rising automotive Mecca...

The Enterprise folk thought this was funny, as in, "Wow! This is so crazy or Holy Moly, this never happens Dude!" Too long later Enterprise broke into our car "old school" and we were on our way. 

But we really weren't because getting into and out of airports is like finding an exit from Wonka Land - nearly impossible unless you fall into it. We drove left. We sped right. We missed signs and pulled into vacant lots in scary dark places. We passed the same McDonald's twelve times. We ended up back at Enterprise three times. Todd looked liked a squeezable stress doll, all bulgy eyes and swollen lips. I was just silent seething rage at the stupidity of the entire situation. Our last ditch effort got us traveling on Interstate 94. Our GPS sat on our dining room table at home. Ultimately we arrived at the Marriott anxious and pissed off. 

Todd barely slowed down the car at the entrance, booting me to the check-in desk where I did my best to get our room and check-in our airport alter egos. 

We were on time to greet friends before the service, and when the rabbi asked for a minute of silent prayer, I had no trouble: Please make it better for our return trip. It can only get better right?