A Battlefield Tourist

The First of Many Legs

Jan 31 at 7:07pm by David Tate

As I patiently wait, the lady reminds me four times how late I am as she tries to get me booked:  Won’t take the info, has to reenter the info, the printer doesn’t work and neither does the other one, the one in back doesn’t work either so I get a hand written receipt.

What? My bag is nine pounds over?  “Yes”, she says.  “You wanna take something out?  If you don’t, it will cost you.”

In my head I’m getting frantic so I opt for the heavy bag fee:  $80, or roughly $10 p/pound.

The fastest part was the bag check where the TSA agent and I struck up some Iraq stories and he breezed my bag through.  Not the case up the stairs.

“Camera and laptop have to go through alone, sir”.  Tick, tock.

Over the intercom:  “Mr. David Tate, this is your last chance to board.”

“Ok, sir, your camera isn’t a weapons system (I made that up)”.

Before he finished I’d grabbed my bags and ran for Gate 3, and for the first time EVER, the place I was going wasn’t at the end of a terminal a mile away!!  Thank god for the Roanoke Airport.

“I’m glad you made it, sir.” said the smiling lady at the gate.

“Had to pull my best O.J Simpson for that…”.

Oh wait, I can’t say that anymore.