The Man on the Plane
It is midnight and here I am sitting at Toronto’s Pearson Airport. There are probably two or three dozen people standing around waiting for arrivals, so so far the waiting area is not overly crowded. But the information board which just a few moments ago showed about a dozen flights is now filled with ten times that number.
It’s a very cold clear night here and for the first time ever, at least that I have seen, there are five wee sparrows hopping around on the floor in front of me. The travelers finally getting through immigration and collecting their baggage look tired as they pull their luggage behind them. As I write this most all have suntans and a few brave souls not wanting to leave their vacations behind are wearing shorts – for crying out loud! Oh yeah I remember doing the exact same thing the last few times. Perhaps it is a subtle form of bragging…see me in my summer clothes …I’ve been somewhere warm and toasty..and you haven’t!
As you can tell from the heading this is all about a man on a plane. The importance of which has to do with how a man thinks. I know, I know. There have been unlimited observations made on this very subject. But oh boy.
Three weeks ago my friend left for Belize. A working vacation. During that time we exchanged emails and at one point he asked if I would pick him up at the airport. Always up for a little adventure I said YES! Throughout the course of our communication I did try to get flight information out of him. Honestly I did.
Initially he thought it was enough to tell me he would get in at eleven fifty five pm. Then he was able to tell me that it was a Delta flight. I never did get the actual flight number from him.
I did some Internet checking and there was a flight coming from Belize with a lay over in the US. Getting to the airport I discovered there were two Delta flights coming from Atlanta, both late. Now when I checked the Internet I do not remember Atlanta being the lay over site, however I am operating on faith.
Periodically someone wanders over to chat or ask a question. I guess I must look like I know what I am doing. Unfortunately some say I may be at the wrong gate or terminal (there are three). Looking around I see an information booth but no one sitting there. One chap gives me his life history, which I must say is interesting, and then tells me that international flights also come into terminal one – I am in terminal three.
As I saunter around the waiting area….looking like I know what I am doing, I see a fellow sitting at the information booth sort of crouched in the corner so he is not visible easily. I take a deep breath and try to convey casually the information I have about my friend’s flight. Thank goodness he is a he and understands the limited information I have and assures me I am in the right place and sort of the right time as the flight has been delayed an hour.
I spend some time trying to figure out what delays a flight since there are now about a dozen flights on the board listed as en retard…remember we are a bilingual country and even though Ontario is largely English speaking, French always seems to come first. I become a little concerned that all the delayed flights are from a central area of the US. I later find out that this particular plane was not filled to capacity so they had the passengers disembark and crowd into a smaller plane.
My friend shows up at one-thirty am. I am surprised that I managed the late hour well although I must say everyone else there looked like they were out in the middle of the night! Mission accomplished and the information he gave me in his own vague way turned out to be completely accurate.