I parked my car in my usual off site parking place this afternoon near Hartsfield Jackson International Airport. I park at the same place every week. I know the people by name that checks my car in when I arrive. I use valet parking. They take my car. I get my luggage and get on the bus for the short ride to the South Terminal.
Sometimes the small bus is packed with people. Today there were only five of us. As usual nobody said a word to each other. Everybody is in their own world checking their blackberries or talking on their cell phone. Each person flying to who knows where.
Nobody gives a rip about anybody else. They could care less if you are having a good day or a bad day. Just doesn’t matter.
Sometimes I try to make people talk. I’ll ask a general question to start a conversation. I may ask if anyone on the bus subscribes to the Taylor County News. Or I may ask if they have read View From a Hearse. They act like they have no idea what I’m talking about.
You know they do but they act like they don’t.
I’ve gotten pretty good at going through security. I know just what to put in my briefcase and what to keep on and take off. I don’t even slow down. Today the lines were not bad. Sometimes they are very long. Nobody speaks to each other.
I am a big guy and I usually have someone bigger than me sitting next to me on the plane. On one recent trip my butt never touched the seat. I was suspended in air because of the huge guy who was sitting beside me. It is obvious the airplane manufacturers were not thinking comfortable when they were making planes. They were trying to figure out how many people they can get on it without it dropping out of the sky.
I spoke to the guy next to me today. He responded but with a very short answer. I decided to leave him alone. When we were landing he asked me if I had the correct time.
Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?
I landed in Little Rock, waited on my luggage, grabbed it, headed to the Hertz counter, rented a car and drove to the hotel. Holiday Inn Express. They are all alike. Right?
Wrong.
The first question I asked when I walked up to the counter was, “Does your air conditioner work?
"Oh yes. It’s fine."
It didn’t feel fine.
The second question I asked was, “Where is the elevator?”
The answer: “We don’t have one but we are getting one in November.”
Really. I'll certainly keep that in mind.
So I climbed up the flight of steps with two bags and got to the door that was supposed to go down the hall to where my room is located. It looked like a push door but it was hung to pull. No handle to pull.
I went back down the steps with my bags to see if I was on candid camera. The guy came up to help and told me he would have to go back down and around to open the door. I waited.
He finally came down the hall and opened the door. He said they had just had the door worked on and the person put the door handle on the wrong side. He told me he would have it fixed for me as soon as possible.
I really don’t give a rat’s bahootie if he ever fixes it.
But at least I got a room with a view.
If I look carefully through the bushes I can get a glimpse of I 440.
Life on the road ain’t what you think.
Trust me.
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