October 5
Up at 6:15 like clockwork—three years at the monastery getting up daily to open the chapel had taken its toll. Barbara and I were ready by 8:00. Rachel started getting calls so we called for a 9:30 taxi. We were at LAX before 10:00, $20 lighter. The lines at LAX were immense. We figured out the Delta automatic check-in devices scanning the barcode on the reservation form then scanning our passports. Next we joined the line to the baggage check-in. A girl in front of us was traveling to New Orleans cutting it close. It would be a small miracle if she made her flight. After the baggage check-in we were herded into the security line. Just as we were close to the roped off area, it was shut. Then we were directed to another line. Ten or twenty minutes later we had passed through the maze of parallel ropes. The New Orleans girl was really getting nervous. The first security guard split our lines towards two conveyor belt areas. Of course we were directed into another long maze while others lucked out being directed a few steps to the other conveyor belt area. By now the New Orleans girl was sweating, keeping up a strained smile. One security guard was barking orders to remove our shoes and to place them directly on the conveyor belt, not in one of the grey bins. Everyone was removing belts, shoes, bags, jackets, etc. placing them in the grey bins then fumbling for identification and tickets to show the security guard on the other side of the body scanner. We passed that inspection but the security guard insisted that my laptop be removed from my bag and re-scanned. I still don’t know what created the red flag. It passed the second scan, so we gathered our belts, shoes, bags, loose change, cell phones, and vests. Weighed down by back packs and my lap top bag, we escaped to the Delta flight boarding gate. We felt like a stiff drink by now but it was only 10:40, so we settled for a couple of senior coffees at MacDonald’s. Barbara started reading a book while I started this journal entry. My high school English teacher would be proud. I will continue to wonder if the New Orleans girl made her flight. I don’t think she made it. Maybe we’ll see her at one of the bars later.
We never did run into the New Orleans girl again. To re-energize we shared a pepperoni pizza with diet cokes before boarding the plane. During our flight to Atlanta I played Trivia most of the way and won several games but only placed third over all. Barbara played Trivia for a short time then surfed the TV channels. Food service consisted of free sodas and a choice of cookies, pretzels, or peanuts. Since it was a cross country flight, we were offered two servings of this gourmet stuff. Thankfully, our flight arrived early into Atlanta. We found a TGIFs where we shared a quesadilla appetizer with good old Sam Adams brew to wash it down. After a quick potty stop we boarded the plane for London Heathrow. Sometime soon we will dine on some sort of chicken pasta with a complimentary wine. Then we will try to get some sleep. It is 4:00am Tuesday in London. Our captain predicts an early arrival around 11:30. I think we will be two zombie Yanks trying to find our hotel then staggering around Big Ben, etc., sort of an extended surreal nightmare. For now, it’s Bon Appetite time and, hopefully, sweet dreams. I hope Barbara remembered the Rolaids.
Dinner was a Delta experience. Since I wasn’t getting much sleep, I thought I would share the details for posterity. It arrived on a 6 X 8 plastic tray. The good news was a plastic Coke glass half-filled with Chardonnay from a box on the flight attendant’s cart. One item on the tray was not wrapped in plastic, a slightly stale French roll. This was accompanied by Land of the Lakes butter tightly wrapped in foil. We were also treated to Canadien Nanton Natural Water in a plastic cup covered with foil. The trick was to remove the foil in cramped quarters without spilling it on your lap. A slice of Tilamook Jack cheese was also provided tightly wrapped in thick plastic, the toughest item to unwrap without any sharp implements. A black plastic fork, knife, and spoon were the only dining tools. Dessert was a plastic wrapped Love & Quiches Brownie. An iceberg salad with one cherry tomato and about 7 stale croutons was stuffed into a 3 X 3 plastic cup sealed with clear plastic. Heinz creamy Italian dressing was provided in a white plastic pouch challenging to open without disaster. The main course resided in a 4 X 6 trough complete with 3 pieces of chicken breast on one side, a glob of mashed potatoes, followed on the far side with mixed carrots, beans, and small slices of bell pepper. All of this was awash in a gravy of sorts. Mixed together it was edible. In case of spills, one napkin enclosed in plastic was also provided. For seasoning, two one inch square plastic packets of salt and pepper were tucked beneath the napkin. Only a sharp knife could possibly open the packets, so I didn’t bother.
Dinner with Chardonnay didn’t help with sleep. Barbara and I squirmed to find comfort. Between her hip pain and my tail bone pain with no further cocktail service available we surfed the television offerings.