In lieu of creative writing I decided to keep a journal
during my recent business trip to Jordan. I had a hunch it might prove to be
more entertaining than anything I could make up. With the bar set that low I can
hardly miss, so stow your personal items under the seat in front of you, return
your seats to the upright position and let’s review my notes from the flight
over.
Day One
Reno-Tahoe International Airport – I’m siting a bit dazed
and confused waiting for my first flight, a short hop to San Francisco. I’m
dazed because my alarm woke me a five o’clock this morning (I had forgotten
there was a five o’clock in the morning) and confused because I just realized
that, in my sleep deprived fog, I checked my carry-on bag as luggage. I bought
a small cup of coffee for about $8 … if the caffeine doesn’t wake me, the
disgust of paying $8 for a cup of coffee certainly will.
San Francisco International – Arrived at Terminal 3 to
discover that my connecting flight was leaving from Terminal 1 and that the train
connecting the terminals was out of service. After hiking to Terminal 1 to
check in for my flight to New York I discover that the bag I checked in Reno
had been unloaded and was waiting for me back at Terminal 3. I made the round
trip hike to retrieve my little roller bag then, because I had gone outside, I
got to remove my shoes, belt and dignity to pass through security yet again.
When I arrived at the gate I am informed that the flight is full and I’ll have
to check my roller bag through to my ultimate destination. Swell.
Somewhere over Kansas – Airline etiquette question; is it
appropriate to wake someone to tell them that they are farting in their sleep?
It’s difficult to watch the in-flight movie with my eyes watering.
JFK Airport, NYC – I’m resting at the gate waiting for my
flight to Paris. I’m not sure what time it is but it’s dark and I’m tired
because I just hiked a half-mile
to the international terminal, once again surrendered my
shoes, belt and self respect to pass through security for the third time that
day. I considered buying some food from a vendor near my gate but decided that
hunger was preferable to paying $20 to buy some bad pizza from an unshaven jerk
with a heavy Eastern European accent.
Somewhere over the Atlantic – I’m eternally grateful that my
boss paid for a business class seat. I’m comfortable and well fed but beginning
to question my decision to indulge in the free champagne and the gourmet coffee
because now I’m drowsy but can’t sleep. I selected a Disney movie featuring
Kevin Costner from my entertainment menu and, sure enough I was dozing before
you could say “has-been.” At some point during my Costner induced nap, the
first day of my trip slipped into the second.
Day Two
Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport - I’ve lost all track of
time but I’m pretty sure it’s been most of a day since I left home. I know that
I could use a shave and I’m pretty sure I could use a shower because the French
cops insisted I put my shoes back on before I passed through their security
checkpoint (four airports, four security checks). It’s approaching late
afternoon on Sunday and I’ve been wearing the same clothes since early Saturday
morning, so I figure I must look as seedy as most of the other passengers waiting
to board the flight to Amman, Jordan. I hope this isn’t some kind of sign of
things to come. The large French woman scoffed at my American dollars when I
tried to buy water so I paid with my corporate credit card. I’m sure I can
expense fourteen Euros for a bottle of water … that can’t be more than a buck
and a half in real money, right?
30,000 feet over the Jordanian border – The previously polite
French pilot sternly explains that we are passing into Jordan and that national
law requires that all passengers remain in their seat with belts fastened and
no more food or booze would be served. I look at the window at the darkness
below and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
Next week we’ll review my notes from my stay in Jordan … I
know, I can’t wait to see what happens either!
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