Ah, travel. I do love it so! There's nothing quite like a weekend jaunt out of town to jostle the ol' intellect and lift the spirits. A change of scenery is good for the body and mind. Of course, when it's the third weekend you've been out of town it begins to get a bit exhausting. Taxing, if you will. Not that I didn't enjoy my weekend in Salt Lake. Quite the contrary. I was able to spend enjoyable time with my beautiful sister, my brother, his wonderful wife, and...well, let's just say a certain tall gentleman I adore who burns me CDs, makes me laugh and kisses like you wouldn't believe...okay, you're probably all gagging right now. Sorry! I'll get to the ranting, I promise. After all, what good is blogging if you're not complaining about something? So back to the point at hand...I flew to SLC this weekend. My trip was off to an interesting start as the tram that transports passengers from the airport to the actual terminals was malfunctioning. It should be noted that one cannot simply walk to the terminals, the tram is the only way. I love how malfunctioning technology brings out the mob mentality in people. Since I was nearly 2 hours early for my flight, I hung back from the crowd of sweaty, irritated travelers shouting out to anyone who would listen that "They should do something!" "This is ridiculous!" "They need to fix it!" They, they, they. It reminded me of a scene out of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged when the railway shut down. Dagny Taggert looked out amonsts the wayward citizens and saw "not eyes, but moist ovals glistening in the moonlight." As soon as a tram finally arrived, people shrieked, pushed, shoved...anything to squeeze onto the tiny transporter. I was pushed out of the way so many times, I had to wait 3 trams before I was finally able to get on. Thank goodness I was early. This all occured on Friday. Good Friday to be exact. I thought, given the space of three days the tram situation at the McCarren Airport would have been remedied. Unfortunately I was wrong. In fact, it had only gotten worse. I found myself crammed into said tram tighter than a sealed package of Oscar Meyer weiners. The stench of hot, stressed out tourist was overpowering. Tension ran high as people again complained about the poor conditions of the airport. Sarcastic jokes were swapped between strangers, whines echoed throughout and nearly everyone had the same look of confused irritation on their sweaty faces. The trip from terminal to airport was swift, but the journed didn't end upon our arrival. For some reason, the doors releasing us from the confines of the tram malfunctioned, refusing to set us free. At first, nervous chuckles were heard. Then high decibles of complaints...shrill cries. Minutes passed. I was unconcerned, but very uncomfortable. It occured to me oxogyn was running out fast...I was a little light headed but I figured whining and complaining only used up valuable air. Air which I needed to fill my lungs with. An airport security guard passed by, staring in at us like a child inspecting monkeys in a zoo. Where was his balloon and hot dog? I know not. I do know that he grinned goofily at us, shrugged his shoulders helplessly and strolled on by. At this, passengers began shaking the tram and pounding on the glass with limp fists. Screaming and shouting, people attempting to pry open the tram doors with clammy fingers...at this point I did begin to worry. I was going to be crushed by a rioting airport mob. Obviously that didn't happen as I am here typing this blog (or am I?) and I made it home safely. The ordeal is in my past, but not forgotten. I still smell the foul stench of freaky impatience...mingled with old lady perfume and B.O. Needless to say, I'm glad I don't have any trips scheduled for this next weekend. Methinks I need a break.
