Once again, Tony and Jack load the bags and we head to JFK Airport!
The bags were packed – mine stuffed with art to hang on the walls and fabric for Rosa, Pontelandolfo’s great seamstress, to make me cute outfits with. Jack’s stuffed with new clothes – he is such a cute clothes horse. My carry on carries all things related to my Mac Book Air. Cousin Maryellen ran around the house making sure we didn’t leave anything behind. We had passports, tickets – we are set to hit the highway and fly on home to Pontelandolfo.
Thanks to my nimble Godson, Tony, the ride to JFK was swift and chatty. We were shocked to see that there wasn’t a line at the Emirate’s Air check in desk. We checked in – our overweight bags were miraculously not overweight. Then the clerk said, “enjoy your 4 hours.” What!!!! The flight leaves at 7:20 PM. “No, the check in time was 7:20 – the flight leaves at 10:20PM.” But, but it is only 5:00 PM!!!! Well so much for good planning – who read that e-ticket???? We headed to the TSA clearance center to the gates. I’m glad we got there four hours early – we needed the time.
I’m not one to whine – well maybe just a little – but 55 minutes in the TSA line at JFK is a real whine, whine, whine! Moms with baby carriages, ladies holding babies, elderly people stooped with the strain of carryons – all marching slowly in circuitous paths. Step by slow step we moved in one direction, only to be turned around and headed back from whence we came. The only people that could avoid the 55 minute wait were the .05% with first-class tickets. Stop bitching Midge -it is not a class issue – just a ticket issue. Sensitivity to the elderly and the woman carrying two kids would have been nice. They literally had us go the entire length of the huge space in one direction and back four times and then do it again. What great fun. Reminded me not to come to Terminal Four at JFK.
After wending our way back and forth, fourth and back, back and forth, fourth and back, we got to the place where one takes off one’s coat, unpacks ones computer, ones iPad, ones anything metal etc. I absolutely support this process. It is better – as they say – to be safe than sorry. In today’s world, we accept the challenge of travel and appreciate the oversight. As I was accepting and happy to comply, I watched all of my goods going through the x-ray machine and walked towards the door-frame like scanner. Suddenly, I was told to go into another line for a different kind of full body x-ray. I didn’t mind the full body x-ray. I rather liked the patdown. Especially when she was fondling my breasts. I didn’t like seeing my purse, computer, IPad and briefcase laden with my good jewelry sitting about fifteen feet away from where I was. I never think about anyone mugging me or in any way doing all those things that people tell me I should worry about. BUT – I was carrying – rather my briefcase was housing – all the euros to pay the May Cooks in Pontelandolfo group expenses. F#$%! There was no way they would stop patting me down so I could get to my stuff – I was able to turn around and at least see it. Those of you who know the volume and rancor that my voice can take know that I would be able to thwart any evil doer with my not so dulcet tones. Putdown over I ran to my stuff.
Next stop, Terminal Four’s Tigín Irish pub. Rock and roll, starting with Michael jack son’s Thriller, called us to the pub and perked me up. Since we didn’t board for hours, a slow snack, Guinness and chair dancing to groovy sounds was in order. Perfectly poured Guinness – I might add – the glass rested partially full and then there was a second pour with a perfect head. OK – I belched at the airport prices. Gulp, it cost over $100 for two Chardonnays one beer, hummus and veggie platter, a grilled chicken, pear and fresh greens yummy salad and a chicken cheese bacon sandwhich. Ouch, I want to get to Pontelandolfo where a pensioner can afford the prices.
Last year, you will recall we flew Emirates – cheaply upgraded to business class – ahhhhhh. This year we tried coach. The seats were big enough for my substantive butt and there was enough legroom for Jack. That was a good sign. The wi-fi surprised me! Who knew you could have wi-fi in the air and not screw up the automatic pilot. It was 10:30PM and I sure as hell didn’t want dinner – I wanted sleep – wait what is that scrumptious odor? Yes, I’ll have the chicken thank you. My little tray sported real flatware – no cheesy pack of plastic. Wine? Of course, thank you. The food was nothing to rave about but wasn’t anything to complain about either. I think the aisle was a wee bit wider too – easier to walk about – and the giant plane was divided into sections with each section having a large walkable space fore and aft. Sounds like a good flight – right – ehhh – it was still coach. No foot rest. No flat down to a bed seat. No little kit with ear plugs, mask, creams and presents. Still coach…
Ci vediamo dopo. Time to take a snooze in Milano.