February 25, 2022
Leaving Minneapolis
My first morning waking up back in the States, I figured I was home free! I caught the hotel shuttle back to the airport. When I reached the check in counter, I learned my husband had been unable to pay for my checked bag for some electronic snafu. The woman asked for a credit card to pay for the bag. In a state approximating panic, I gave sort of an “I don’t have any credit cards!!” wail. The extremely patient woman directed me to a vending machine some distance away, where I could insert cash and receive a temporary credit card, which I could then use at back at the check in counter to pay for my baggage. https://www.mspairport.com/
With my bag checked in, I made my way to the security station. I was in the TSA pre-check line with another traveler who had a friend in the non pre-check lane. https://pre-travel-application.com/?TPC
I’ll call them “John” and “Paul”. “John” was in line with me, while Paul was in the regular line. John and Paul were bantering back and forth, competing for who made it through the line the fastest. As luck would have it, the non pre-check lane was moving faster than the TSA pre-check lane was. This was highly irritating to John and me, for different reasons.
Passports
John caught a glimpse of my Emergency Mexican Passport, and said “it looks like you’re going someplace fun!” Haven given me my opening, I rounded on him said, possibly too loudly and definitely without breathing said in one long breath, “I’ve already been someplace fun I just want to go home this is an emergency passport because my purse was stolen and I’ve had a bizarre weird last few days!” John looked appropriately abashed and said he was sorry to bring up something with so much associated trauma, I laughed and said “don’t worry about it, it’s just been a hell of an adventure! You gave me the opening and I jumped in with both feet!”
Airport Security
When I reached the security checkpoint, I handed my passport and boarding pass to the security guard, let’s call him “Jake”. He looked at my emergency United States passport originating in Mexico very carefully. He went to the pages several times. He showed it to the guy in the next station over, we’ll call “Max”. Max looked as mystified as Jake had been. So finally Jake addressed me, saying he’d never seen this kind of passport before, and needed to talk to his supervisor. We’ll call the supervisor another “Paul”.
Waiting
I stepped away from Jake as he tried to get Paul’s attention. Repeatedly. As I waited, Jake was busily allowing other travelers to proceed to the metal detectors. I’m just standing there, waiting for Paul to arrive and give my Emergency Mexican Passport his blessing. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably just 7 or 8 minutes, Paul arrives. He and Jake confer, and with a bit of Max’s participation, Paul studies my passport. He flips the pages, just as Jake had done. Like Max had done. Paul confers with Jake again. They both confer with Max again. More page flipping and head scratching.
The Verdict
At some point, Paul seems satisfied. Paul approaches me and says “I need to see your face, can you pull down your mask”. I pulled my mask down below my chin and stared at Paul with most likely an unfriendly expression. Paul smiled and said “give me a smile”. I’m pretty sure the expression on my face told him there was no smile in there to be had. Paul chuckled a little bit and said I was clear continue through the rest of security.
More Security
When I reached the metal detectors, and I put my backpack on the conveyor belt. I took off my belt and shoes, placed them with my small emergency purse in the tray to go through the scanner. I proceeded through the metal detectors. This was the first thing I’d completed that day with no hiccups!
My First Mistake
On the other side of the metal detector, I accidentally picked up someone else’s grey backpack, another “John”, probably. John very kindly said “I think that’s my bag”. He was right. I was alarmed and embarrassed so handed over the bag with apologies. John informed me my bag had been seized for inspection. After a few minutes I saw my bag handed over to yet another security guard, “Richard”. I followed Richard to a table, where he asked if he could look through the bag. My response was obvious – there’s only one answer, “of course you can!”.
Richard asked if there was anything sharp or hazardous in the back. I provided a non-committal response. Richard opened the bag and pulled out my traveling toiletry bag. He asked again if he could open that bag; another non-committal response. I was a becoming increasingly more subdued by the whole security apparatus at the Minneapolis airport.
My Second Mistake
When Richard opened up the toiletry bag, he saw the can of peanuts Lissa had so carefully packed for my return trip. Richard asked me what is in the can of nuts. This time I’m certain of my response: peanuts. Richard asked if he could open the can, “yes of course”. Richard opened the can and discovered peanuts. He put the can of nuts back into the bag, zipped it up and dug deeper into the backpack. Richard found the dumb bottle of water I had forgotten to throw away before I headed into security. Stupid Rookie Mistake.
Richard began to explain the airport policy about traveling with liquids. I interrupted and said “I know I know I’m so sorry I forgot to throw my water away please just throw it away!” in one long breath. Richard said he was going to throw the errant water bottle away, to which I nodded vigorously. Richard then zipped up my backpack, handed it to me, and said “have a nice day’.
The Home Stretch
The flight from Minneapolis to Denver was not eventful although my legs were feeling cramped and crowded. Since I could not still my restless legs, I dove back into my John Grisham. I had been thrilled to remember my pal, John Grisham. I’d been using his novel religiously the previous four days to stay distracted during the “overstay” on Isla Mujeres.
When we arrived at the Denver airport I retrieved my carry-on bag, exited the plane and headed directly to my next gate.
It’s always important to find your next gate when you’re flying, especially when you have a layover. You never know what might come up that slows you down as you navigate to that next gate! And You won’t always know how far away the gate is going to be, so it’s better to scope that out before you do anything else, even finding a bathroom! Or food, or a cigarette break. This is information learned during years of travel so that was one part of the current journey I was familiar with!
Getting Stuck
Because my legs had been unhappy from sitting so long in the airplane during the first flight, I decided to wait as long as I could before boarding the final flight. The flight that would finally take me back home, back to Montana. I waited as long as I could, but when I tried to rise from my seat on a metal bench, I found the zipper on my coat had gotten stuck in the bench!
I had been sitting on this coat, my very favorite coat in all the world, the coat I wear it in the field, the coat I wear it when I travel, the coat that is warm and reliable and brings joy to my heart! It’s warm and comfortable and has a layer that’s removable although I never remove it. I had even replaced the zipper the previous winter. I’d paid the dry cleaners in Bozeman to fix the zipper because I love the coat so much! And then the new zipper is caught in the metal bench at the Denver airport! And I was increasingly agitated. It felt like the last straw.
Between the entire extra stay on the island, and the Minneapolis airport, the Cancun airport, I was just about at the end of my proverbial rope. I had visions of the possibility of tearing my coat, breaking the zipper, and how wretchedly horrible that would be. As I was trying to maneuver the zipper loose from the from the bench, I accidentally kicked my brand-new-post-security water bottle. It starts rolling away. So I’m wrestling with the zipper, watching my water bottle roll further and further away, hearing the “it’s time to board” calls over the loudspeaker. By some miracle I was able to get the zipper loose from the bench, retrieve my “trying to escape the situation” water bottle, and make it onto the plane.
The Final Leg
The best thing I about the day was finding my seat on the plane was a ‘standard plus’ seat with extra legroom, another thoughtful thing that my husband had arranged for my comfort on the last leg of my extra-five-day trip. I bury myself in John Grisham again, and the time passes.
Back to Bozeman
The plane lands, and I endure an almost painful “wait until everyone seated ahead of me gets off the plane”. When it’s my turn, I head out, knowing exactly where baggage claims are and where my husband is likely to be. I’m almost desperate to be reunited with him, my saint of a husband who supplied me with everything he could from 3,000 miles away. I saw him before he saw me, so I fast marched to him and threw my arms around him. I was nearly in tears. We retrieved my suitcase and made a bee line to Cellular One, where we picked up my second replacement phone within two weeks. Unfortunately, the dozes of photos I took on my island vacation did not transfer to my new phone. Lessons Learned – Tales, Trails, and Transformations (talestrailsandtransformations.com)
Lucky for me, my Island Compatriots provided me with both replacement photos, and the drive and desire to write about the experience. Thus, this blog. http://www.talestrailsandtransformations.com/generosity-2/
