My Savior–A Woolen Shawl? An Airport Sleepover Story.
On my way down to Florida to see my parents, almost to the door of the Pensacola airport, 179 miles away–the pilot informed all 150 passengers that there was only a half-mile of visibility due to heavy fog and therefore had to head back to Atlanta. You can only imagine the groans and yelling of expletives from the passengers–replete with hand gestures–who were trying to get an early start on their Thanksgiving holiday.
After the 150th petulant passenger disembarked, the attendants (now known as The Enemy) began the process of checking us in on another flight the following morning and passing out vouchers for a “discounted” room.
Hmm, it’s already 1:00 a.m. By the time I walk the corridor lugging my heavy bags, ride the train to the correct concourse, wait for the hotel shuttle, and stand in line at the front desk, it would then be 2:30. Then I would have to be back by 7:00 a.m. which meant I would have to arise by 5:30 a.m., ride the shuttle back to the airport, grab some breakfast, and wait for the attendant to call Zone 8.
Did I want to go through the hassle for a mere three or so hours of fitful, fettered sleep or am I made of tougher stuff?
So I decided to try stretching out across several seats, head resting on the suitcase, clutching my camera bag and wallet. After a half hour of shifting around trying to find a comfortable position–I finally fell asleep.
What saved me from the cold and glaring lights while sleeping was my Italian merino wool shawl that Dapper G bought me one year for Christmas. It’s about 80″ long and 40 inches wide–my savior, my protector and preserver.
Daily Gratitude: My father waking up from surgery to joke around with the pretty, red-headed nurse!
Grateful for all my new blogging acquaintances.
© Teresita Abad Doebley All rights reserved 2009-2011.