Travel Efficiency

Have you ever noticed how, when you’re trying to get away from it all, you end up dealing with a ridiculous number of obstacles just to get on a plane?

I do. Every time I fly. It begins when you arrive at the airport. Now, with all the smart engineers in the world, you would think the drop-off point would make sense. Oh, wait, scratch that. Engineers have a proclivity to taking the long way around. To go from point A to point B, they take the scenic route from point A to D, then F, back to A, sideline to E, and maybe, if you’re lucky, you finally reach B. Clearly an engineer planned the departure point. But I digress.

Your forever-in-their-debt driver weaves around a snarl of cars that are stopping and starting; people are pulling out their suitcases and milling around the cars, oblivious of the danger. After a few near misses, your driver pulls up to the designated drop-off area. You jump out, grab your bags, give a quick goodbye hug, before the traffic controller shouts at you to move, you dodge cars to reach the safety of the sidewalk.

Who came up with the idea for such a chaotic drop off area? Now that the adrenaline is pumping, you rush inside to get in line to check your bag. If you’re lucky, you’re only bringing a carry-on (damn your efficiency), so you get to skip this step.

The lines are long. It’s a good thing you arrived an hour earlier than the suggested time. After checking your bag, you head to the security checkpoint. The TSA personnel work hard to get you through the line quickly, but most quit smiling after their second day of their job. Honestly, who can blame them.

At this point I have to use cattle rancher jargon, because now I feel like livestock being herded from one area to another. My smile fades the moment I enter the forcing pen, also known as the crowding pen. If you don’t know what that is, let me tell you. Cattle are funneled into a single-file line designed to create a smooth flow of cattle. Sound familiar?

Now we shuffle along in the forcing pen, rolling our carry-ons, checking our phones for something interesting to entertain us while we wait. Sometimes I want to say, “Mooooo,” just to lighten the mood. But then I look around and see that no one looks like they’re in the mood for jokes. We’re the joke. I doubt I’m the first to think or say that.

Next we reach the alley, sometimes called a chute. This leads cattle to the handling area. Now it’s our turn with the TSA agents, who check our documents. Our carry-ons and shoes go in one chute, and we step through another. We are x-rayed, wanded, and or metal-detected to ensure as prime beef, we’re ready for departure.

Released into the calmer section of the airport, we wait. And wait. And wait some more. Eventually, an agent turns on the microphone and announces the jet wants us on board. However, we must do this in an orderly fashion. While we wait for our seat number announcement, we mill about our holding area.

First class. Check. Children with infants and toddlers. Check. Wait. Shouldn’t the toddlers board at the very last minute, so they can run about until then? The poor things are going to be cooped up for hours, so why not let them be carefree, burning off energy, in hopes they’ll nap during the flight.

Then the rest of us board, which is what prompted me to write this. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to board the back of the plane first and work forward? Bags need stowing in overhead bins and people have to settle into their seats before the aisle is clear for others to get by to their seats. Starting with back seats makes more sense.

Does it matter who goes first or last? Everyone has an assigned seat, and the plane won’t leave without you.

Take deep a breath, and know that no one will best you if they board in front of you. Boarding order doesn’t change leg room, your meal and drinks, and you’ll still have leg cramps and claustrophobia.

After all that, jet lag takes on a whole new meaning.

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