D-28

Not that I'm a seasoned traveler just yet, but even I know when they change your departure gate at the airport to D-28, you're screwed.

Not only is it 89-1/2 miles from where you walked into the airport, it's the only gate that does not use a jetway. It's such a flash back in time to when the airplanes still had propellers. Ugh.

This morning, I checked into the airport around 5:30 a.m. That is rude enough. However, the boarding pass I printed off last night had a departure gate of D-8. The agent told me the good news. We'd been changed to D-28. Oh the horrors. Picture this if you can...

Four airplanes on the tarmac at the same time. When it's time to go, it is time to go for all four planes. No boarding by rows, by height or by hair color. Nothing. Here's what you get:

"Attention passengers. We are now boarding the following flights: Chicago O'Hare, keep to the right, Baltimore, keep to the left, New York, to the middle, also in the middle, XYZ city (the one destination I forgot). C'mon people, let's move."

You hand your boarding pass to one of the harried agents. They take your pass and send the passengers for all four planes through the same door. Through that door, you walk down two flights of steps, carrying all of your crap. Then outside into the elements. Hopefully there are at least a couple of the grounds crew out there, pointing your way to one of four airplanes sitting out on the tarmac. With trepidation, you walk up the right stairs, and keeping your fingers crossed, into the correct airplane. This is way too taxing so freakin' early in the morning!

Ok, I'm heading to the correct plane. In front of me heading up the steps is a nice, clean cut younger guy. Once up the steps, he takes off his jacket and I see he's the captain! Nice! I like to get a good look at the person that has my life in his hands. I wanna know if he's hung over, didn't have enough sleep or is bright eyed and bushy tailed. He was one of the more bushy tailed kinda guys. Since he's there, and I'm there, I ask him how he's feeling while I try to sniff him to see if I smell alcohol. He informs me that he's feeling "fantastic"! This is a good start. Then he adds that his 12 cups of coffee are finally kicking in.

The smart ass streak in me had to respond. I told him that I hope he didn't think he was going to pull the plane over once we were airborne so that he could go pee! Happily, he assured me that he could definitely hold it until we got to Chicago. aaah. I felt much better about the whole thing!

So, he has a bit of a smart ass streak in him too. Gotta like that in a pilot. But, I'll give the guy his props. This had to be the best landing I've ever been a part of. Well, it's true that any landing you walk away from is a good landing. However, this one landed so softly, I didn't even realize the wheels touched down. On my way out, I had to poke my head into the cockpit to congratulate him on a great landing, AND on his bladder control. That was one strange look on the co-pilot's face! Hey, let the pilot explain that one to him.