Regional airports have always terrified me. I presumed large
equated to being managed well, although in reflecting in my angst and annoyance
with airports, they were the large ones. Given that travel escalated greatly during
the time that DEN and PHX were our bases, it was more than a little weird to us
to see that AVL was not only regional, but a really small regional. Like six
gates regional. Like the TSA folks know our names regional. Like the routes are
simple and predictable at a painful level regional.
Anyway, one gets used to it, as well as the perks of at
least not being treated like a terrorist because it’s just another local with a
clear pattern of travel. Terrifyingly, I have watched myself slow down as well.
The classic Marian Act at any airport is to be hyper aware of my zone, scope
out the enemies that may try and get the jump on my line, and carefully,
subtly, wield my way into the attack position for boarding. All the while, I am
providing the ever so brilliant disguise of bored apathy numbly engaging with
my smart phone.
Life has changed, and that has become crystal clear in my
true apathy in boarding today.
*watching Netflix on my phone with my earbuds firmly buried
in ears*
VERY LOUD MICROPHONE ANNOUNCEMENT. Something about boarding.
*increases the volume of my show*
Nobody is moving.
I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE ALL THOSE WITH *massive list of ways
you can be special* STATUS.
Nobody is moving.
I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE ZONES 1 AND 2.
A couple shuffle around, but I’m not noticing much movement,
and I increase my volume again. I have found it’s easiest to get on last anyway
since all my luggage for any trip these days fits under a seat. Unless I’m in,
by some miracle, First Class, because there the free drinks start immediately.
However, there is NEVER a true First Class EVER going to leave AVL.
I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE ALL REMAINING ZONES.
Maybe some more shuffling? Not sure.
LET’S GET MOVING PEOPLE!
*a few grins as a few of us raise our heads and realize it
would be wise to unplug*
WOULD ANYBODY LIKE TO ACTUALLY GO TO CHARLOTTE?
Finally. Movement. We queue with no acknowledgement of
status or zones and have light conversation with other travelers, many of them
joking with the poor lady who just wants to get our asses on the plane.
That, my friend, is AVL. A culture that was massively weird
to me previously has somehow injected me with its virus of recognizing that it
really, shockingly, doesn’t matter who gets on the plane first. We all get to
the destination together.
