Not Always Early to the Airport

You who know me, imagine this, on Monday, June 11, 2007.

I’m on the plane now, more than halfway to New York, from San Francisco.

The flight was scheduled to leave at 12:45 pm.

I stayed too long on the computer in the hotel room, looked up suddenly at 10:45 without having packed, still typing.

I wasn’t on the freeway until 11:15.

I needed gas. Megan and I had been to Monterey and Carmel and back, the tank was almost empty, Hertz charges like $6 per gallon so it seemed cavalier and wasteful to not get gas. I pulled off the freeway at Holly in San Carlos, got into the gas station at 11:25. The ATM didn’t accept my card. I gave the machine a $20 and it took it, but then I couldn’t reach the tank with the pump, had to move the car, and then the ATM machine was unhappy with me, sent me to see the cashier. I wasn’t back on the freeway with a full tank until 11:35.

I drove fast. I was at Hertz at 11:55. I handed the paperwork to a person and told them to mail the receipt. I was on the rental car train at 12:05 and into security at 12:10. I was selected for special security because I had toothpaste and sunblock in my baggage. I wasn’t out of security until 12:25.

I was almost the last person on the plane. I called Megan because I had to tell somebody.

The plane sat on the runway for 30 minutes for gate hold at New York.