The Airport

Oh so we’re going to Florida again this summer. I’ll make sure to pack all my stuff a few days in advance and arrive at the airport about two hours before departure. I already checked in on the Delta website and printed off my tickets. I go over to the baggage check area and check my suitcase. I won’t have to pay the extra fee because I’ve checked that my baggage is under 50 lbs at home. I walk to the security check area and take off my shoes and jacket, making sure to put them in the plastic bins that roll through the x-ray table. After walking through the metal detector and collecting my stuff again, I’ll take my time and stroll through the various shops in the airport, waiting for my flight to be called.

I’m so nervous, I’ve never even been to the airport before. From what I’ve read, you should get there in advance, so I’m leaving my house two hours before the flight. I’ve already packed my things weeks in advance, so I should be fine. I get to the airport an hour and twenty minutes before my flight, and I don’t know where to go next. I look at the large screen above me and try to track my flight number. I head over to the line that’s checking my flight in and I see all the people in it. I nervously glance at my watch a few times in the duration I’m standing in line. Once I get to the front the lady checks me in and hands me my ticket, but asks for an extra $25. I look at her in confusion as she explains that even though you’re allowed to check one free piece of luggage, “it comes with strings attached.” My baggage was 58 lbs but I was unwilling to part with anything inside. I reluctantly pay the fee and ask her where to go next. She directs me to the security checkpoint, another stop with a long line. I jog over and copy the movements of the people around me, taking my shoes off and placing everything in these rectangular boxes. When I’m done with that I hear them calling for my flight and I sprint over.