My expectations for our the regional jet/ rubber band prop airport were quite low, I could not have imagined I’d need to set them lower. But here I sit in the terminal, freefalling with no bottom in sight.

Driving down the unlit, two-lane road in the dark of 5 a.m, I drove past the barely marked entrance. The second entrance was also well disguised and I moved cautiously through an unlit winding trail , the only moving car in view, to find the terminal closed and relocated in a temporary shelter. The terminal moved, but parking had not . I settled into the first available space at 35 minutes before the 6:10 a.m.departure.

Hauling my bags past the construction over the parking lot terrain, I arrived in the modified double wide “terminal” sweating and disheveled… and 28 minutes before my flight. A small man with a large attitude behind the counter took obvious delight in telling me , a man already there and a woman who arrived behind me that we could not check our luggage within 30 minutes of departure.

Leaving for a six-day, three city trip, luggage is important. The airline couldn’t ship it. I could not leave it there for someone else to pick up and ship for me. My luggage and I were conjoined.

It could not be put on a later flight without me. Apparently it is no safety hazard when they separate you from your luggage, but it is when they have five hours to check it thoroughly before the next flight, they have an absolute obligation to protect your fellow passengers from your luggage.

I can pay $25 to be moved to a later flight, but can’t be confirmed until three hours before that flight. It is now 6:39, at 8:38 ( and not a second before thank you) the Napoleon in the golf shirt behind the counter will let me know if I won the lottery to Atlanta and the bonus round to Houston.

I am now they only person in the “lobby,” all employees are behind closed doors and have been for the last 15 minutes. . There are, of course, no accessible outlets for my laptop only one on the ceiling for a garishly loud television blaring Fox News. After listening to an intensely informed and objective piece about how North Korea loves John Kerry and is working for his election and another which repeated several times that Hillary Clinton “cackled” when quieried about the vice presidency, I, the only person here, got up to change the channel. All the channels are Fox. The volume control is fixed. It can not be turned off.

I have descended to the final level of hell. My morning appointments are shot and can’t be rescheduled until I have the results of the 8:38 lottery. I can not check my bags because I have no ticket. If I go to my distant car, I have to take all luggage with me. If I go into the bathroom, I have to haul it all with me.

So it’s me and Fox News. I was not a terrorist when I arrived. I may be before I leave.

Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs