As I go through the process of getting onto the airplane a couple of times per week I notice several tidbits that strike me as interesting. This morning I am flying United Airlines from Toronto to Washington (Dulles) and because of the ninety minute delay I had more time than usual to take stock.
Arriving at Pearson International Airport is simple. When I lived in Montreal I would drive to the airport and park behind the Hilton Hotel because it was slightly less expensive, and until my the last time I parked there had been more secure than parking in the airport's parking structure. However in Toronto it is much more expensive and much more complicated to park, and I have found it to be both simpler and less expensive to leave my car at home and take taxis to and from. My taxi arrived this morning at 6:30 as planned, and as I sat in the back seat making a couple of phone calls I was glad that my talking did not disturb the driver insofar as he simply turned the radio up.
I have grown used to the fact that Air Canada and United Airlines cannot make up their minds about who I am supposed to check in with. Their Easy-Check-In kiosks are anything but most of the time, and I am resigned to the fact that I have to stand in line with the rest of the herd at Air Canada's Steerage Line. At the front of the line there is an agent whose job it is to expedite the first person in line to the first open spot and I joked with her that her assignment roughly resembled a video game in which you have to drop tokens into the empty slots as quickly as possible. We see each other every week and by now she knows me and we had a quick laugh about that. When she dropped me into a waiting slot the agent informed me that I was indeed supposed to go to the United counter. Sigh.
Last night as I packed my friend borrowed a pen from me. The significance of this only became apparent to me once I was handed my Customs and Immigration Form to enter the United States. The agent at United did not have one to loan me – probably because the last passenger had borrowed hers to fill out their C&I Form. It took me five minutes to track down a nice agent from Air Canada who graciously loaned me hers – and I did return it to her so don't ask me to sign anything.
I once saw a documentary on how cattle are led from here to there – usually from grazing fields to a slaughterhouse – through a labyrinthine maze of fences that keep them in order and guide them to their final destination. I am reminded of this as I wait in line at U.S. Customs. This morning I am not concerned that the line is longer than normal because I arrived in plenty of time to hurry up and wait. The couple that I had advised not to throw out their coffee so fast thank me because from the other side of those double doors it is hard to conceive that you have another forty-five minutes to go until the Transit Security Authority asks you to get rid of your liquids, and we strike up a conversation. They were a nice couple from outside Toronto who just decided to get away for a week. They were seven or eight people behind me so the conversation was only at the turns.
As we near the front of the line we are sorted into more distinct lines by agents who seem to find pleasure in sorting three people who look suspicious and unable to converse in English who will likely be questioned at length by the CBP officer… and then putting me in line behind them. Once we finish our questions we are all sorted back into a single line, and then resorted into lines at the security checkpoint. I am now behind the nice couple who are just now finishing their coffees.
As I walk casually to gate 168 with twenty minutes to spare I glance at the board to discover that my flight has been delayed from 8:25 to 9:00, and has been moved to gate 166. Neither is a big deal as long as there are no further delays. The lineup at Tim Hortons is way too long for me and I decided to pass… I would be in Washington by 10:00 and would get a bite there. I went to the gate to speak to the agent only to find that there was an Air Canada agent who was unable to help me with questions about my United flight. She did make an announcement that the flight was delayed for mechanical reasons which had been resolved, and that there would be no further delays.
As I sat at the gate I contemplated walking back to the restaurant to get a sit-down meal, but decided I did not want to cut it too close. I sat at the gate until I saw a United agent appear, and as I approached her the flight changed again… it was pushed to 9:30, but not to worry, the problems had now indeed been resolved, and there would be no further delays. I took the opportunity to stand in the line at Tim Hortons, which had not shortened at all in the previous forty-five minutes. When I got to the front of the line I was served politely and promptly, and when I looked for the charity box to deposit my change into I was told that there wasn't one because it was a corporate store but not to worry, they donated to the charity themselves. I looked behind me and the line was now three people long instead of twenty. There is something to be said for timing.
At 9:25 the board showed that the flight was delayed again, but this time was different in that there was no agent at the counter to either make excuses or field complaints. It is now a certainty that I will miss my first appointment in Virginia, and I can only hope that this will be the last delay.
We finally boarded the plane and took off around 10:30 for the flight that was slightly shorter than the delays. The captain made a point of reminding us that the delays were not the fault of the flight crew, and that we should not take out our frustrations on them. Susan the flight attendant (who I suppose could have sped things along by having a doctorate in avionics) came around offering coffee or water, explaining that there was a weight restriction so they could not load the regular beverage trays. Looking around the half-full Embraer 145 I wondered briefly if the other passengers were left behind with our drinks. She was however pleasant, and the coffee was welcome.
Finding a seat on the airport shuttle was difficult because several people took up two spaces because they were obviously the type of people who do not like having anyone sit next to them. As a closet one of those I understood, STOOD being the operative word.
The baggage handlers at Dulles have this amazing ability to route any plane that I am on to the baggage carrousel furthest away from both where I am coming from and where I am going to. However unlike last week in Cleveland (where I was routed to the carrousel nearest where I needed to be) my suitcase appeared to be un-tampered and no more broken than previously, so I should not complain.
Last night I sat at the computer and printed out a slew of documents – a map from the airport to my hotel, to the office, and back; my ticket, car rental and hotel confirmation, as well as my attendance list for the course and a few white papers I was planning to read. These documents are in a very neat pile on my desk in Mississauga, which I am sure would have no trouble finding the hotel. I on the other hand was grateful that the car rental company provides you with a map, coupled with the fact that I have been here once before. I found the office, and from there was able to get to the hotel without a problem. Thus endeth my saga and my ramblings, and I hope that my next flight – across the continent to Seattle Friday morning – will not only be on-time, but uneventful.