Flying Spirit
I almost missed the flight because of NJ transit.
We were stuck in the air train terminal, and with no automated trains running for the last 45 minutes panic had set in among the anxious passengers.
Another NJ transit train, a shared Uber with a stranger, and I was rushing to the security line. The gates closed in 30 minutes. You weren’t sure if you were going to make it.
Everything depended on this plane trip and you could’ve just left 10 minutes earlier.
And then the line was short. And then the flight got delayed. And once again
you had time.
TSA security lines are one of my favorite places in the world. People from all walks of life, going all over the world, for a moment come together, in unity, over their despair of being in a TSA line.
Recently too, the priority lanes for TSA-Pre and Clear have become about as fast as the main TSA lines in some airports. And the discontent has been distributed again across all the lanes.
It’s great.
The signage in most airport security lines never seems to match what the TSA agents firmly instruct you to do. We’ve all forgotten about the right way to handle a laptop, especially when there’s people pushing in right behind you.
I got through the line in a blur and scoped out prospects to relieve the emptiness in my stomach. Firehouse Subs, some EWR pizza, a restaurant where everything is $20.
There wasn’t an airport lounge in sight.
Firehouse won out.
The gate was at the end of the terminal, and was one of a handful laid out in a semi-circular waiting area. There was a flight to the Middle East from an international carrier, a few out West from Alaska Airlines.
The rest of us were flying Spirit.
The seats in the waiting area had scattered unidentifiable white specks on them. A quick brush off was needed. I was about to get a book out when I turned to see bright lights coming from my left.
In the middle of an airport that felt as though it had last been renovated in the 90s was a newer flat information screen. There were some TVs raised on the walls as well. A yellow and black that matched the Spirit colors radiated from the screens.
A man appeared. Selling “free” health advice and using coded messaging. It cut to commercial, with the text appearing on screen, “I was brainwashed on Brinx TV”.
A quick google showed it was run by a man named John Brenkus, Director of the television program Sports Science on ESPN, which I grew up with. The entire Brinx.tv platform was free to access.
Perhaps it was just nostalgia.
I guess I had been brainwashed by Brinx.tv.
The line started forming the moment the hostess made the announcement that boarding would begin in 15 minutes. I sat from a distance and watched the scramble of people, all attempting to by-pass the boarding groups they’d been assigned.
An announcement immediately followed that they wouldn’t begin boarding until everybody sat down. The hostess firmly repeated multiple times the instructions in a stern but worn out tone.
It seems it takes a lot to break the flying spirit.
I sat back down in another seat.
The plane wasn’t entirely full, and I got a row to myself. I placed my backpack under the seat next to me.
I looked out of the plane as we were taking off. The wing made me smile.
You had to pay for snacks and beverages as the cart came through in the middle of the flight.
I passed.
It was one of the best flights I’d ever taken.