Traveling is fun. For most people… most people who aren’t me. No matter what airport I’m in or where I’m going, I always seem to be inundated with those little annoyances all travelers experience. You know what I’m talking about: those delayed flights, the ear-plugging climb, that ear-popping descent, the person in the seat next to you who won’t stop talking, the bad coffee airlines serve (I mean c’mon–I don’t want the peanuts, just a little Irish Creme). And don’t forget about the undiscussed fact that you are miles above the ground, moving at gut-wrenching speeds, and have absolutely NO control over the situation.
I don’t like to fly.
But I do. Quite often, in fact. Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it any easier. So, on a recent business trip, I decided I was going to cure my flying phobia. Out came my notebook and pen and I began to write a pro/con list (if you know me, you know this is not unusual). Much to my dismay, just a few minutes into the exercise, the cons far outweighed the pros, and I began to get discouraged. Perhaps curing my fear of flying is too great a task. Instead, maybe I should resolve the little annoyances, first. Baby steps, Cat.
First on my list: those motorized carts used to help the elderly and handicapped move around the terminal. Great idea, right? I’m all for helping people. I’m a nice person. I like other nice people. I like nice things. But this little invention is not nice. Why, you ask?
The beeping. The BEEPING!
Imagine the most annoying, high-pitched, continuous, mind-numbing ring, eminating first from the cart and then echoing off the bare walls (as if hearing it once is not enough to get you to move out of the way). And all this followed by the nauseating, overwhelming scent of Bengay.
I know I’m not the only one who finds this annoying. As I was sitting by my gate listening to this inscessant noise, I actually saw an occupant of one of these carts reach up and turn down (or turn off) her hearing aid. Proof! You agree don’t you? The beeping overshadows all redeeming qualities of these motorized carts. The only remaining hint of hope is… perhaps… going for a ride in one.
Hey, there’s an idea.
But how? I’m not handicapped and I don’t qualify for the AARP, so my eligibility is severely hampered. Or so I thought. It turns out you don’t need to meet these requirements yourself. You just need to know someone who does. And, as luck would have it, I was about to meet one such couple.
After paying for my Venti Nonfat Cinnemon Chai at the Starbucks kiosk across from my gate, I took a seat near a delightful looking couple eating cream cheese pastries and chocolate candies. How cute, I thought. They promptly introduced themselves. His name was Hans. Hers was Gretchen (I about choked on my Chai before I realized she didn’t say Gretel). They were really nice. And remember, I like nice people. So I immediately liked them. After a short conversation about the weather and our travels, Hans and Gretchen got up and, according to them, “began the long trek to their gate”. Enter a brilliant idea into my head–one that would not only help cure one of my annoyances, but also assist my dear, sweet, elderly friends as well. With timing that couldn’t have been scripted any better in a blockbuster movie, a little beeping cart came cruising around the corner.
Now, I don’t think I need to detail every word of the conversation that secured me a seat on that beeping cart. I entrust that element of this story to your imaginations. Just know that a couple of quick talking minutes later, I was whizzing through the Buffalo/Niagara airport terminal on the back of the cart, watching all those travelers look up annoyingly at the incessant beeping.
After my little joyride (and the furrowing glare I received from the driver after he realized that it was nothing more than a joyride), I considered myself cured. I headed back to my gate and boarded the plane a happy (and nice) person. And though I didn’t need to suffer through a bad cup of airline coffee (I still had my chai in hand), I did talk to the person next to me…
Until he started to annoy me.
You’re hilarious.