Come with me now as I take on my adventure of my 4 hour layover in LAX, Terminal 5, Delta wing.
So shit happens, right? And my flight that I checked into yesterday at noon (my flight leaving at 11:45am) has been “changed”. That’s a euphemism and a broad concept at this point. As I’m writing this I’m still feeling a mixture of miffed, bewildered, and imbaresed; but we’ll get to that last part later. Ironically I was in the middle of writing a blog about traveling for my work when this happened, so I’ll save that for another time.
Right now I am at the Angel City Brewery mini-bar near Gate 69A. My original flight has left the building and I am enjoying a much need IPA. A screaming beeping sound is going off behind me for a reason that I refuse to turn around to find out. No more today please. And I am thinking to myself, “How in the world could they change to a smaller plane without telling us?” A now overbooked plane to the point. I’m not so much bitching and complaining as, well, bewildered. And no, asking for volunteers to give up their seats is not informing us. Sorry, not sorry Delta.
At any rate here I am. Transferred to another flight 4 hours from now. Looking for a distraction. Where’s my beer?
Still nursing my IPA. People watching is a natural choice at this point. I reflexively default to this a lot actually. And when you do this you start to notice details. Men wearing their suit jackets, not wanting to pack them and risk wrinkles. The woman with that extra tote bag which she knows she can easily conceal within her little purse but we all know is really a third bag – who are you trying to kid? And I am facinated by the shoes people wear to fly in (in which to fly – whatever). It’s like the “traveling clothes” one would wear a hundred years ago. Me, I’m a boots or flats kinda girl. I don’t like open-toed shoes on airplanes. Aside from my big feet getting in the way everywhere (hey I’m tall) I also get cold easily. But in SoCal this seems like a popular choice for others, along with sneakers. Comfy is a good way to go. I saw a girl with wedges – also a good choice – but the woman in kitten heals is obviously a woman who hasn’t considered the possibility of standing for any length of time in a crowded airport. I’m thinking she’s traveling first class.
I also like eavesdropping. Not my fault. People talk loud.
F*@k. How did I forget to bring my Ewok backpack! I’m going to a geek convention for the love. That kid walking by with his Chewbacca backpack jogged my memory of what I left behind on the back of my door (props to him BTW). And thank you to the guy sitting next to me who helped me spell Chewbacca- I never claimed I could spell.
Isn’t present-tense writing fun!!! 😃 And our teachers said it wasn’t possible. Pesha.
After the beer I put on my makeup. Though admittedly not before I caved and bought from one of those perfume, makeup, booze kiosks. It was all so shiny. I’m not sure but I think I took my sweet as time putting on my makeup. Luggage unchecked I had it all with me. Normally I don’t travel all made up, but hey I had some serious time to kill. And I look fabulous my Dearies. Mwah!
Food, I need food. I get my nummies and sit down at the Lemonade Cafe that is in an entirely different part of Terminal 5. Much more cheery in my opinion and brighter too. Nastolgic music is playing from the late ’90s my ultimate teenage years. I remember this part of 5. It’s where my husband and I departed from on our honeymoon not long ago. Normally I wouldn’t chill at a table as they are in such high demand, but there seems to be a lull at the moment.
I find eating en mass a tad odd. Everyone masticating seems strangly grotesque to me. Maybe it’s all the moving moist mouths (yeah that’s right I said moist). Maybe it’s the the fact that everyone is making the same exact motion out of unison. Maybe it’s both. It doesn’t keep me from my brisket though. I pay attention to my own food. Ooo! Cake! Side thought – since when did Lemonade start serving Bourbon? Airports.
My new flight was supposed to depart an hour ago. We deboarded the plane. Malfunction we were told. Everyone was laughing to keep from crying possibly. I was too tired to do either. Upon waiting for news of our fate peopled started to circle the gate like hyenas; hungry, needing, eager with anticipation. We scrambled back onto the plane with wry comments of, “Have you flown with us before?”, “Better luck this time,” and “Deja Vu!” We won’t get in until well after midnight. I may actually laugh; later though I think.
There is not pretty bow on this tail. I just don’t care enough. I am exhausted, with all the emotions that come with that. I’m in and have to be up in 4 hours, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Good night and good luck. Now where’s my Ambien?