“Feline Airways always gives problems! If it’s not delayed, it’s canceled… it’s scary!” I warned my other friends. “Besides, it’s the only airline that uses the cheap flight terminal… it’s too unglamorous, even for you Jen.” (Jen is my fabulously frumpy friend). Unfortunately, it was the only airline with a time schedule that suited our itinerary. So (sigh) Feline it was (but I am not feeling it).
That was 3 weeks ago. Today is the day of the journey. Resignedly, I arrived at the terminal and let reality… and my designer luggage carriers fall to the ground. The terminal is EXACTLY as I remembered it – a glorified warehouse, complete with howling air vents.
Ironically, what should I see as I sat for my cup of passable latte? Hullo? What have we here? My in-law’s (Louis) monogram luggage? Following the mister was the missus hand carrier from my in-law’s neighbour, Aigner? It was as if I’d step out of the taxi and entered Twilight Zone. Curbing my urge to give directions to the couple, somewhere along the line of “excuse me, the first class flights are at the other airport terminal…” I continued to sip my cup of latte-served-in-a-wrong-receptacle.
By the way, you do realize that my altruistic thought to give directions was an unfulfilled, well-restrained sarcasm.
P.S. True enough, the flight was delayed… for 3 hours.
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