Plane Protocol, Survival of the Fittest and Hydration Stations

My airplane trip was quite eventful. First, I was fortunately in Boarding Group 2,  which in theory is a good thing.  The reality of my flight however, was that there seemed to be about 200 people in Group 1.  I was in a good position, as “Person #1” in Group 2, but it was fraught with peril  because I immediately realized that with so many #1 folks, overhead space, particularly in the front of the plane, would be at a premium. I was in Row 7, located immediately behind Business Class, and I knew that speed would be critical to ensure adequate overhead space for my carry-on. Things were moving well, until I threw on my seat, my huge work bag of notebooks, an 18 month calendar (I’m in my 60’s—I’m old school)  my iPad and far too many pens that would be necessary for any four day conference.  I can only say, that I thought I  had zippered the bag.  Sadly, I did not, which resulted in EVERYTHING coming out of it and cascading onto the floor.  It was likely that I did not make a good first impression on “Mr. Aisle 7 window seat” with the string of curses that immediately came from my mouth.

I knew I had to act fast.  Should I pick up the fallen bag contents or make a bee-line for the overhead space?  For anyone who travels a lot, it was a no-brainer.  You hoisted that 22 inch suitcase over your head  and looked for the space.  I found some near Aisle 11 and was thankful that the folks who were to be sitting in that aisle must have been in either Group 3 or 4 because they had yet to arrive and could not give me the “stink eye” for taking their overhead space.  When I returned to my seat, my seat mate, Mr. Window Seat, was picking up all of my bag’s contents strewn on the floor.  What a nice guy! 

This trip however, from Newark to San Diego made me realize that I am too damn old to sit in the middle seat on a plane. As middle seats go, I had all things working in my favor. I paid the extra $39 to go from Economy to Economy Plus so that I would have that 2 additional inches of leg room and neither of the two grown men I was sandwiched between were arm rest hogs. It’s just that my body can no longer sustain the lack of movement for such a protracted period of time. For example, in hour four, between the cramped quarters and my drooping head from dozing, I had a multitude of neck and back kinks that were yelling, “Do something!”  I tried to sit up and stretch my back and neck, all while trying not to become the middle seat arm rest hog. By hour 5, I felt like Seinfeld’s Elaine Benes, who also spent some air time in the middle seat of a plane and found herself screaming—at least in her mind—that she couldn’t take it any more. That was me on United flight 504 last night, although I didn’t try to sneak in to Business Class like she did. 

It was late by the time that two New Jersey colleagues and I arrived at the hotel/conference center. I was very thirsty and as it was late, I asked whether there was water in the rooms.  I was advised that no, the hotel was very environmentally conscious and now had “hydration stations” on every other floor.  Only in California. I was also told that I would find a carafe in my room that I could fill at the hydration station. 

We were then told that “their system” was down and we could not be given room keys.  Security however, would escort us to our rooms and open our doors.  Two uniformed men met us in front of the hotel and both were wearing the largest badges I have ever seen in my life.  They were extremely polite and friendly, but maybe I was tired because I just  couldn’t get past the badges.  While this is my first visit to this particular conference center, from the looks of the place, I assume the crime rate is pretty low and a John Wayne-sized badge seemed to be a bit of overkill. 

We each were brought to our rooms but I explained to the “sheriffs” that I needed to drop my luggage off in the room, find my carafe, be escorted by them to the hydration station and then be escorted back so that they could reopen my door for me.

It went downhill from there. 

First, although we looked everywhere, the sheriffs and I could not find the carafe. We finally found an ice bucket to use but they had no explanation when asked, as to how I was going to pour the ice water into a cup.  My next question was, “Where are the cups?” We looked everywhere and finally found three paper cups in the back of one of the cabinets. Clearly, caring for the environment did not include the use of paper cups. The last leg of our journey was to the hydration station, which turned out to be a glorified ice machine.  Armed with this knowledge, today I made sure I stocked up on water bottles, as we never did find that carafe in my room.