Jet Blah II: below the Mason Dixon line

A few days later when I was returning to NY I thought things would flow much smoother, it’s not JFK, it’s the South, they are supposed to be helpful, right? The terminal was calm and relatively empty, no lines no waiting. There were only 2 agents – but no big deal the place was deserted. I printed my boarding pass at the self serve station, stepped up to the counter, then placed it down along with my Driver’s License. Not sure if the design of the counter was done purposefully but the top surface slopes down towards the agent and it has a rounded edge so of course my pass and my ID slipped gingerly over the precipice and disappeared out of my view onto what I thought was her desk top. The agent didn’t make any gesture to retrieve my run away articles but instead flatly informed me “They’re gone”. I popped onto my tippy toes to spy over the counter top only to discover that the agent’s desk top sloped back towards the counter with a 3” wide chasm that was a portal to the 6th dimension. I said, “Ok so what do we do now?” her reply, “Nothing, I mean I can’t do anything”.

She offered to print a new boarding pass but she couldn’t do that until I handed her my government ID… you see where this is going? We danced in this circle for about 3 rounds with her asking for my ID and me reminding her that it was under her desk top. Finally the agent next to her looked over, bent down, OPEDED the cabinet doors under the desk top, and started fishing around. Funny cause neither of the agents appeared to be bothered by the sudden influx of passengers waiting to check in as the line swelled to about a dozen inpatient New Yorkers.

Tada! Agent Two resurfaced with a Drivers License in hand gently placing it on Agent One’s desk top. Agent One typed a few key strokes then without looking at me said, “Banks?” I assumed this was some sort of ‘agent speak' so I did not respond. However still staring at her monitor she once again uttered, “Banks?” I said, “I’m sorry I don’t understand what you are asking me?” Still buried in her monitor she gruffly barked “Banks, your name, Eric David Banks.” then slammed the Drivers License onto the counter. I held up the Georgia State Drivers License with a photo of Eric David Banks, a 52 year old African American male next to my face, raised an eyebrow and said “REALLY?” Agent One tore the ID from my hand, tapped #2 and announced “She says this isn’t her”. Agent Two gave me the once over, scouring the ID for any similarities that MAY connect me to Eric David Banks, but unfortunately she had to agree that I was NOT a black man and disappeared once again below the counter in search of an ID that would be a closer representation of my countenance.

My NY ID was located and I did get onto the flight – however I do wonder about poor Eric David Banks and if he ever returned to Georgia without his ID.

Jet Blah

How lucky was I that my very normal (yet lovely) visit to the Old South was sandwiched between the bookends of frustrating travel? Here I thought I would have nothing to blog about (again) however Jet Blue really stepped up and filled my void. After reading the marketing materials about T5 (Jet Blue’s uber fancy new terminal at JFK ) I was totally jazzed to be transported back through time to a place in the mid century when air travel was posh and spacagey. Jet Blue has been making a lot of noise as of late regarding their move into the old TWA terminal that I assumed that upon arrival from the monorail AirTrain I would be greeted by a Don Draper lookalike presenting me with a martini, and a lit cigarette. However as the AirTrain made a sharp turn around the old TWA terminal I was broken hearted to see that not only has it been losing its exterior shell of cement like a leper abandoned in a dusty Moroccan bazaar, but it’s also held captive behind a 12 foot chain link fence like a rotting beached whale. Jet Blue did not move into the TWA terminal they just built a new terminal behind it! New, pah!? Once I traversed the 300 yard walkway from the AirTrain to the terminal I discovered that it looked just like any other terminal, no fancy flat screens promoting far away destinations, no cocktail lounges with woman dressed in knee high white boots serving pomegranate cocktails, no dark gentlemen in sharp suits with hats …just your plain old florescent lights, molded plastic chairs, and tons of LINES.

Don’t know why I even checked in online and printed my boarding pass, so did everybody else! There we all were still waiting in line because there isn’t a fast-forward pass if you are checking baggage. Of course there were only 2 agents at the desk and both were apathetically draped over their podiums watching as the serpentine line of perspective travelers grew increasingly longer while a party of 4 at the counter tried furtively to repack all their suitcases so none of their bags superseded the 50 lb limit. The other genius traveler holding up the process was a 20 something who when he arrived was only sporting a T shirt, shorts, and flip flops yet when he was informed that his bag was too pudgy he proceeded to don a pair of jeans, sweat pants, a long sleeve T shirt, a hoody, a coat, socks and hiking shoes – freekin’ tool. I swear I was 2 minutes away from paying ALL of their overweight fees just to get the line moving!

Very Random Update

I’ve been waiting to write when I have some quantity of quality material but unfortunately all I have is a mix bag of snippets…. so here it is:

Overheard at the beach
Late 20 something corporate lawyer: I’m gonna have to break up with my boyfriend, he doesn’t have any ambition. Like he makes 150 and he’s happy with THAT! Like he doesn’t even have any goals, he doesn’t want to better himself, I mean with his salary. I can’t spend my life with a guy who is happy to make less money then me.
*I was so close to turning around and asking for his phone number cause I could overlook a guy who makes 150k at 28 years old and is HAPPY*

Overheard at the beach (different set of chicks)
So I said I would meet him then I ran to Duane Read bought a razor and shaved my legs in the bathroom at Barnes and Noble.
*damn it’s tough being a chick in the city*

Conversation with my co-workers regarding apartment building smells:
Bookie: Who doesn’t love the smell bacon?
Me: You know if they made a men’s cologne that smells like cooked bacon, no guy would ever have problems getting chicks.
(Note this conversation commenced prior to the Swine Flu out break)

New things that make me happy:

Muffin Pies – The Bookie bought them for us, mine was apple (of course).
Bookie: I am putting muffin pies in the kitchen.
Me: I don’t know what a muffin pie is but you just said two of my favorite words.

Lap Desk- it is fantastic! Not only does it keep the hot bottom of the laptop from permanently scarring my upper thighs it also has a cup holder!

Yapta.com – it’s a website that tracks hotel and airline prices then emails you when the rate drops. OR if you bought the ticket already it will track the price and email you if you are eligible for a refund.

Travels
Next week I’m going to NC for the weekend to visit Q then next month I’m heading out west to see Scooter. Jet blue was having this super sale so I jumped on the chance to visit my peeps. NC will be filled with lots of food, drinks, relaxing, (some sight seeing) and a good old girlie funfest. Seattle should be stupendous, so much green nature to explore. I never thought I would be jazzed to see the Pacific North West but after doing some research I’m intrigued by the rain forests, Scooter and I are even planning a mini- camping trip in Olympic National Park.