On my way to DC

So I have embarked on my trip out East! It has been fun so far (I’m writing this as I sit in Denver International without an internet connection because $4 should buy more internet than 2 hours. I’m stubborn like that.

I normally arrive two hours early for international flights and one hour for domestic. My flight left at 7:30 so I decided to try for 6:30. When I mentioned that to my mother she looked slightly scared. Apparently Washington DC gets some special security attention (understandable). Her last flight to DC took 2 hours to fully check in and clear security. She tells me this at about 6:10. I was worried, but things worked out.

I always fly with a passport as identification. It is, in my experience, the king of identifications and no one ever has a problem with a passport. I grabbed mine heading out today and, as I handed it to the check-in lady, I realized that I wasn’t holding my current passport. Instead, it was the one that expired three years ago. Also, I am so much more handsome now than in 1999 that she might not believe that it was my picture. I held my breath as she checked me in, not wanting to draw attention to my potentially suspicious circumstance. “Everything looks in order. Here you go.” And with that I was off to security.

Security wasn’t so easy to fool. After looking at it for about 20 seconds (that is a long time when you have a crowd of late travelers in line behind you). She called me out, but accepted my driver’s license. I guess I kind of forgot that I could use it because I was so set on using the “king of identification.”

I settled in for the first leg of my trip but didn’t get my pre-selected seat (window in the exit isle – a little extra leg room there). Instead, I was assigned to sit one row ahead between two other travelers in the isle that doesn’t recline because that might obstruct the emergency exit. I was happy, however to see that my neighbors weren’t overly obese, didn’t reek of human odors, and were not crying babies.

As I struggled to my seat, I was surprised to smell alcohol – being so early in the morning and all. The fellow between the window and me smelled quite strongly of alcohol and I was cutting the timing close by getting to the airport at 6:40. That means, since he was there before me that he was drunk by 6:40 AM, and that is if we don’t even consider travel time, getting ready, etc. He either has a big drinking problem or is really anxious about flying.

Not much happened during the flight. My seat buddies mostly slept and I mostly read my new book, “Stumbling into Happiness.” It is a fun read and is endorsed by Malcolm Gladwell Whose books I enjoy. Gladwell’s glowing comments are even quoted on the front cover. This guy’s ideas are just as interesting as Gladwell’s, but he sure is not as good at captivating this reader.

Denver International’s bathrooms double as tornado shelters and are clearly marked as such. I thought that was really good thinking on the architect’s part because if I am about to die from getting sucked into a tornado, I know my bladder is going to feel like a milk jug. Better safe than sorry.

Since I just can’t bring myself to pay $4 for an internet connection, I guess I won’t post this. Instead I’ll try to cough up the piece of Triscuit that just fell into my right lung.