Wednesday, January 18

LAX is a layer in Hell. Welcome.

It started at 5:00am last Thursday morning. It started with a knock on the door. And it started with a phone call. The knock on the door was from 1/4 of the vehicular party to LAX. The phone call was from the other 1/4 of the party. The knock on the door was on time. The phone call was not.

"Hey, I just woke up."

Our driver. Overslept. His alarm.

There's a reason why I don't like to travel with people. I don't trust people. I don't like to wait on people. My maneuvers are much better choreograph'd around timely airport arrivals, necessary beer stops, snacks galore, and zero stress as I deal with old people, strollers, and foreigners in my tornado-like path through security.

His cut-off was 5:30am. Then, we were leaving his ass. He shows up at 5:27am.

I sat behind the driver's seat, since he's a staggering 5'6", this provides ample leg room than sitting behind Mr. Wookie. I impatiently watch the clock tick a minute and another minute as we're cutting the morning close to hit our flight. The street lights pass, faster and faster, as we pace the Sheriff's Deputy on his morning commute somewhere important. With each Church we pass, I pray we make our flight. I've never missed a flight. And I was not going to now. My eyes singed into the back of his skull. I couldn't have been more irate, more concerned, more annoyed, and more irritated.

We check the rental car (would you believe it's cheaper to rent a car and ditch it at LAX than park your actual car?), and hit the shuttle. The driver slowly churns his sweet time through the 7 gates of LAX. Each one mocking us as we pass it. Each minute ticking by closer to the boarding time to our flight. Each stomach cell ulcerating, eating away at my patience, my silence a tale-tell sign that I'm stressing and unsure that I won't murder someone for being late with their alarm. It's not my fault. I was up at early. I showered. I was ready.

But we make it through. I praise God for all of that. We made it. Somehow. With a few minutes to spare. Then as a collective unit of 7 (half of JOPA plus me), we boarded our flight. We tetris'd seats to force the late guy to sit bitch. And I got to snuggle up to the left bicep of my adorable Mr. Wookie. I dug out my trail mix since I don't fly without snacks. Because a hungry Ginger is a snarky Ginger. Oh wait, I'm always snarky....

But wait, this morning gets better. Much better....


  1. Yuck. Somehow, I have been lucky enough to avoid LAX on all my Oregon visits, but I've heard stories.

  2. In all the flights I've taken, I only missed one... the last one I went on leaving SEA in November. It was SO embarrassing. I was only two minutes too late to "check in." So they booked me on a flight leaving four hours later.

    As I meandered back to my new flight, I sit down next to my original flight. That was running 20 minutes late. I sat there as they boarded the flight. I would have easily had time to make it. Ticked me off!

  3. The Sheriff says.. that was nowhere near as close as the Lufthansa from PDX way back when. I was churning over that one and wasn't even the passenger.