The World Of Bren

My World Seen Through My Eyes And All Kinds Of Other Crap

I never wanted to be one of THOSE people…

With my career I fly a lot – when I say a lot, about twice in a month and I am away from home for just under a week at a time.  Because of this I have become good at the routines of flying and all the little bits and bobs that go with it.

There is nothing more frustrating than being in the que for boarding your flight at the gate and the person in front of you forgets that they need to produce their identity book or passport.  I always huff a bit when I am behind one such person.  It is rather frustrating while you stand patiently in the queue with your requested items in hand, ready and waiting, and then you have to patiently (not so much in my case) wait while the flustered human being digs through every nook and cranny in their giant bag to find their little magic book.  It frustrates me all the more when I must stand there, required items in hand, and watch while the queue next to me gaily files through for boarding and I think to myself, “Why didn’t I choose THAT queue?”.  Eventually the guilty party recovers their little book, presents it to the checkpoint person, and the queue gets on the move again.  I normally end up trying to now get ahead of the offending person in the walk down the passage to the plane just because if I look at them I get annoyed.  I know, the bitch in me comes out.

I have always insisted that I will NEVER be the person that holds up the que while digging for my identity book.  I will always have all my items ready and waiting to be presented at the gate.  I was a Girl Guide when I was young and my motto is to still always “Be Prepared”. And I always am.  Except for yesterday morning…

I arrived at the airport for my flight on time, a bit bleary-eyed because of the very early start.  I sat down at boarding Gate 2 and promptly hauled out my IPad to catch up on some blog reads.  This was my undoing.  I got so absorbed in reading that when I looked up the queue had formed to start the little dance through the boarding gate.  I hauled my heavy laptop bag onto my back, still clutching my IPad, and walked (while reading) to join the queue.  We all stood in the queue, like cattle in a crush, for a further 10 minutes before being allowed to move through the gate.  This was more than enough time for me to realise that there was an item missing from my little paw.  But my nose remained attached to my IPad and my head filled with words that were not mine.

The que moved forward.  As I reached the check-point I quickly flipped my IPad closed at the last minute, and passed the lady my ticket. The dreaded words were spoken “May I see your ID please?”.  These words filtered through my subconscious like frost settling on warm branches.  I felt cold all over.  I had done it.  I was finally the plague of the boarding queue.  In complete embarrassment, with a furious blush rising on my cheeks, I started the frantic search for my ID book which I had casually shoved into a crevice of my GIANT handbag when I checked in for my flight at the check-in counter without a care in the world.  My bag seemed to get bigger and bigger the longer it took to find the dreaded little book.  At one point I glanced up in panic to the bespectacled gentleman behind me in the queue only to see that same look of frustration, pretended patience, annoyance, aggravation, and disdain that is normally upon my face when I am behind one of the human race that is unprepared at the boarding gate.

Eventually my pawing hand came to grips with the ID book and with a triumphant (but embarrassed) flourish I produced the offending item to the patient lady.  It is important to also note that her hand remained during this entire time extended outwards waiting for the little book.  Her arm must have been tired.  She checked my identity (which, after this process, I was none too sure of myself) and waved me through the gate.

Down the passage I rushed forward to ensure that I did not further aggravate the bespectacled gentleman that was behind me and said a silent prayer that he would not end up sitting next to me. God must have felt that I was sufficiently embarrassed and sorry for my lack of preparedness and spared me the pain of sitting next to him.  I tried to remain anonymous for the remainder of the flight.

So, yesterday I became one of THOSE people.  And you know what?  I STILL hate them.

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