Panic. Whatever was I going to do?
*freeze frame and rewind* Let us start from the very beginning.
I was on my way to the airport. Excited. Very excited. [Understandably] I was on my way to the airport, on my way to a new country. A new adventure.
It is funny now that I play it back in my head.
The flight was at 2.40pm and together with my family, we had decided I would leave the house at 1.30 pm. However, I decided much later, that I would leave at 1pm. I had a mental plan; I would go get some burgers and have conversations with my significant other and then get in the airport around 2pm. Thank goodness I did not stick to this plan because then this blog post would have ended much differently.
I do not know what time exactly I left the house, but when I got to the airport, it was 1.53pm. I walked rather slowly into the airport and lazily looked out for the airline’s check in desk.
I walked to the desk and with no other people in sight confidently thought to myself, ‘I must be so serious being so early. I must be first.” And then I heard the words, “Check-ins closed!”
*freeze frame, fast forward to me internally panicking*
I walked to the lady and with my saddest face ever I said, “Please let me check-in” Very indignantly she replied, “You are to check in at least 50 minutes before time.” I looked at the time and I was 5-6 minutes late. She looked like she was softening up to the look of sadness that I had proceeded to give her. I looked to my right and there was an airport security man with the same face that I had been wearing.
She picked up her walkie talkie and said a bunch of numbers and codes. And then, I clearly heard her say, ‘Adding one more passenger on the flight. Female. Are we clear?’ to which she received in response ‘Clear’. And then she tagged my bag so it would not be searched because it would make me late and then we raced against the time. Together.
She took me through customs and then she told me, I was going to have to send the bag to the plane myself because they were already loading. Anything to get on the plane. I walked as fast as I could and then I was in the coach on my way to the plane.
I handed my suitcase to the men in vests, and I saw my bag go up. The last bag on the plane.
I am sharing this experience to let you readers have faith in humanity at how this woman and many others helped me to make my trip. I also would like for you to understand that life-wise, sometimes you may be the last bag on the plane, but in the end, you will make in on the plane. It will take perseverance and support. Others may have made it on the plane earlier than you, but it doesn’t make them any more important than you. Individual situations and circumstances differ.
Never stop to wallow. Even when you panic, keep moving. Be the last bag.
Thankful for sympathy, without which I would not have made my flight.
*Apologies for having been gone that past days, I was settling in. *