04 October 2004
Fortunately, this trip was much less eventful than my previous escapade.
Having remembered the part about starving, I packed some gluten-free quiche (aka “Impossible Ham and Cheese Pie” from one of the Bob’s Red Mill gluten-free flour packages) inside a bag that contained some plastic ice cubes.
Naturally, when I went to the airport, they wanted to check everything, completely unpacking and repacking my carryon. I sure was glad I’d packed neatly.
The TSA lady said that most people were rude under the circumstance. I replied that I knew she was there for my safety and the safety of the plane, so I was completely OK with the search. She seemed to find that refreshing. She was almost apologetic.
She questioned me about my mirror, and it was noisy so I didn’t quite hear what she said.
“Pardon?” I replied, feeling like I’d missed something. Were small mirrors banned on flights these days?
“Walgreens?” she asked again.
I smiled. “Yeah, I think so.” I tried to remember where and when I’d bought it just in case this was a test. Oh, right, when I was having corneal scratches. “I can’t put in eye drops if I can’t see what I’m doing.” So I always keep the mirror with the drops.
She had a little mirror just like it, turns out, and she’d bought it at Walgreens.
I arrived to the gate for my flight early, sitting next to someone with a Louis Vuitton bag and some Gustav Klimt-patterned shoes. I complimented her on the shoes. LV bags, well, I’ve always thought they were overpriced and tacky. Given how old some of the ones I’ve seen must be, though, they must be well-made.
In a discussion, I realized these were the same brand of shoes that Leslie What favors, though I only saw Leslie’s Campbell Soup shoes.
The flight was uneventful and too long.
In the baggage claim area, I saw the lady with her husband. He had plain black luggage. All of hers was Louis Vuitton. I chuckled.
I waited for the bus, in part because the last Cape Air flight for the day departed ten minutes before I reached the counter. Well, I couldn’t have afforded it anyway.
When I got off the taxi, I saw a grizzled New Englander who looked like a poster child for the state of Maine. Two Irish guys were already in the cab, so I hopped in. We all talked about Ireland and Martha’s Vineyard. It turns out the cabbie had rented a room at the Island Inn years back, one in the same building I’d rented in before.
So I arrived at the Island Inn at about 11 p.m., happy to have finally arrived. I schlepped the luggage into the room and unpacked a la Val Kilmer in Real Genius.
I discovered that I could indeed connect via bluetooth through T-Mobile’s GPRS service, but the connectivity was poor in part because the signal strength wasn’t high. Despite that, I managed to get a bit done before going to bed.