I don't know why flying is always such a commotion for me. It's amazing that I have flown as much as I have and yet the airport still paralyzes my brain.
I managed to get to Dayton, Ohio just fine. I was able to check in on line. I have no problems when I check my baggage outside. All I have to do is walk to the gate.
I tried to use the hotel computer to check in for my return flight the night before we returned home but unfortunately I had forgotten my name. I didn't actually forget it, I just forgot how it appeared on my visa.
I go by Jane but my first initial is A. I forgot whether I was my first initial or my first name or my first initial with my second name or just my second name. All I knew was my access was denied. I would have to check in at the airport.
I had two friends with me but since I am a grown woman naturally they assumed I could manage.
I paid the kind, patient, friendly man the insane price of $20 they require. They wouldn't let me take my bag on the plane because I couldn't bring myself to throw out my brand new bottle of mousse and hairspray. After all, they had cost me a whole $5. He passed me my baggage tags and said, "Ma'am, just take this over there where the green light is and they will take care of you."
I looked at my claim tags and back at him, confused.
"Right over there ma'am. See where I'm pointing?"
I couldn't think of a single time when someone took care of my claim checks before, but I had to assume he knew what he was doing. I looked at him one last time then headed for the green light with my tags.
I turned around. He was laughing and chasing me with my suitcase.
"I meant for you to take your bag over there."
I burst out laughing at how ridiculous the situation was. Than I saw my friend Terri.
Her face was a billboard for, 'did you just fall off the turnip truck?'
It took me ten minutes just to catch my breath from laughing at her. I am sure she thought I was supposed to be embarrassed. Poor girl, she's an accountant. Her life isn't much fun.