by Donna Swagerty Shreve
Once a year I treat myself with a trip to New York City to visit my youngest son and also a grade school girlfriend. This year’s trip got delayed one month as I was traveling with another grade school friend She needed a month’s delay as her husband had just broken his ankle in a freak accident. The ankle injury ended up cancelling her trip all together.
We had decided to fly from San Francisco as it would save time and money. The problem with that brainstorm was her husband was no longer available to drive us quite early to the airport. John, my husband, drove me to San Francisco to a lovely dinner before I checked into an airport hotel for an overnight stay. The hotel has a shuttle bus that takes passengers to the airport every half hour.
I felt a bit smug with my wonderful plan that would make my trip so much easier. The first glitch happened at the hotel. John had wanted to help me in every way he could. He checked the shuttle schedule and told me to be ready for the bus in the lobby at 6:19 A.M.
The next morning I arrived in the lobby a bit before 6:00. I even skipped breakfast so I would not risk missing the bus. I could always catch some breakfast at the airport. When no bus had arrived by 6:30, I went to the front desk and checked on the bus. The 6:19 time was when the bus arrived at the airport! John had checked with the desk the night before and they agreed I would need to board at 6:19. I then waited out front to not miss the next bus.
The bus arrived and I was on my way. I have TSA Pre-check so I breezed through to my gate. My boarding time quickly approached and we were told there would be a bit of a delay as there were mechanical problems. Is there time for breakfast? Probably not so I stayed put. Fortunately I had prepared for food emergencies and had made oatmeal crisp cookies. The cookie delayed my hunger pangs. After just under an hour delay, we were allowed to board the plane. We actually taxied out to the runway to stop again. Finally we headed back to the gate. The pilot was not happy with the mechanical issues. We then had to deplane. Now we were told we were waiting for another plane!
After a five hour delay, we took to the air. I had to text my friend and my son to cancel dinner plans as the delay messed with any evening plans in New York City. The airlines served a “meal” about half way into our six hour flight. We were given a rubbery imitation of an omelet, tofu sausage links and a caramel cookie. Yuck! I went into my cookie stash. The bright spot was an empty middle seat as that passenger had rebooked another flight. The airlines gave us a credit of $100 to use for another United flight. Whoopie!
My original plan continued my knowledge of how to travel smartly. I had planned to take the cheap airport bus from Newark airport to the Port Authority in New York City. I then had a three block walk to my hotel. John had begged Brad to take a taxi to the airport to pick me up. Brad texted me to take a taxi instead of a bus and he would be waiting. I was tired and decided to treat myself. I took the taxi! My fare was $78 compared to the $18 for the bus but I did not want to get confused when I arrived and had to lug my suitcase three blocks.
As promised Brad waited patiently for my arrival. My taxi door was opened by Brad and then he escorted me through check-in and then on up to my Spartan room. He took me out for a quick bite and then made sure I made it back to my room to collapse and recover. The trip continued the next day with wonderful visits, theatre shows, fabulous restaurants and many walks.
Now my exciting week was over and I prepared to return to Stockton. This time I decided I could handle my bus at the Port Authority. Brad had walked through the bus procedure the day before so I was prepared to board without much hassle. I paid my $18 and headed for Newark airport with plenty of time for a cushion. When I checked my baggage, I noticed I did not have TSA Pre-check on my boarding pass even though I had had it a week ago when I arrived. I inquired with the baggage checker and he referred me to a woman who helped at the baggage kiosks. I showed her a copy of my proof of TSA Pre-check receipt. She claimed my number on the receipt was incomplete. I was then directed to another counter where flyers are interviewed before receiving a Pre-check certification.
There was a sign at the entrance explaining that they were at lunch and would return later. Fine! I decided to go through regular TSA. I am now removing my shoes, taking out my iPad from my carry on and removing my wrap. Then I received a full pat down after passing through the x-ray machine. Pre-check is a wonderful luxury that I now appreciate all the more.
I took my extra time to treat myself to a light appetizer and then got ready to board my return flight. This time I did not pay for extra legroom. Behind me was a woman with a therapy dog that was wedged in between her feet and jammed up against the back of my seat. I felt sorry for the dog but it sure was wiggly. Sitting in steerage does not allow for any meals. Thus I tried to settle in for the long six hour flight. Maybe due to the large size of the plane we were delayed while a special vehicle towed us out to the runway. You might imagine my initial concern when it was announced there would be a delay!
I have now arrived in San Francisco and I make my way to baggage pick-up. Now I had to find my way to BART. John had the brilliant plan for me to take BART to the new extension in Antioch where he would pick me up I would not have to transfer cars and we would avoid the dreaded congested Highway 580 on the way home.
After two hours the BART train at Pittsburg Landing. We were asked to all exit the car and if we were continuing to Antioch, to follow the signs and get on a special car going in that direction. What was supposed to be a 3 or 4 minute wait ended up being 21 minutes. I was not amused. Finally a small two car train arrived and those of us who were left at the track, crowded in. To find a seat I had to drag my luggage up several steps to a seating area. The only seat available was next to a large black man in his twenties. I am sure he was no more thrilled to be sitting next to me as I was next to him. We were both perfect seatmates however, as we both stared straight ahead.
There was one more stop before the final destination. Joining our crowded little seating area were two young guys in their 20s. One was black and one was white. The black guy strolled in with his precariously perched pants that were revealing quite a lot of underwear and it was confusing what was holding them up. His dreads were streaming down his back and were topped with a backwards baseball hat. The closer he came, the stronger the stench. His buddy was just as unkempt and wore similar attire. He added to the stench.
I don’t know if seeing an older white woman inspired them or if it was just by chance that they launched into quite a foul mouth routine about their respective court dates and the outcomes. The black guy was upset because his friend had recently robbed a gas station and had received 15 years. He explained that robbing gas stations was not his “cup of tea” but he felt that sentence was too severe. They both had return dates to the court where they would learn their fate. I pretended I was deaf and lacking a sense of smell. Mercifully the ride ended and I was able to depart. After lugging my suitcase up two flights of stairs, I found my waiting husband. I informed him I would never be repeating that BART trip and I could either fly into Sacramento or he could endure 580 from the Dublin station. I had now been travelling 14 hours.
I recovered and will return to New York City next year. I have a year for this memory to fade and decided what route and means I plan to take to arrive in one piece.
1530 words
6/18/18
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