A tall chair that was, what seemed to be black leather (or pleather) sat cater-cornered in a small booth type of room in the airport. The room was sandwiched between the over priced newsstand store and the various booths for Wells Fargo, Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University and Florida State University. What are these little room booth thingys for? My guess is to welcome people to the city of Tallahassee and offer them information on these various institutions. Idk.
But, anyways. the tall chair was all black and sat very high up, by itself. It resembled a throne. You probably already know, the shoe shine chairs, right?
Kinda like this but one chair and much more fancy.
Yup, so right there under the seat and above the foot rests was a silver star that read “StarShine.”
Directly in front of that set up sat an old man. When I say “old” I don’t mean mid-40’s, or even mid-50’s, hell. I mean, this man looked to be maybe 70 years old. Elderly. It was about 6:50 in the morning. There was a man who looked to be about 40-45 in a dark gray suit and hard bottom shoes.
The old black shoe shiner mustered up the might to mutter “shoeshine?”
The white man, in his dark grays three piece, barely acknowledged him, just shook his head no and continued speedily towards the short line at TSA.
I looked at the shoe shine man with a big smile on my face (though I’m no morning person AT ALL,) just to say “hello, goodmorning,” but he had lowered his head and his gaze as soon as his offer had been declined. He went back to somber gaze at the ground. 6:52 in the morning.
This gave me a flashback to just ten minutes earlier when I walked into the airport. I was already tired and groggy from what was a short nap earlier that morning (my partner and I stayed up all night, brainstorming and plotting ideas we have, the usual.) I kept a smile on my face though, in order to greet people, after all it is 7 in the morning and we are in the South. Everyone greets one another!
I noticed an older white woman come in at the same time as me, pulling two suitcases. An airport attendant greeted her “good morning, we are glad to have you here.”
I pulled up in line right behind her and turned towards the attendant, not wanting to be rude. I guess he beat me to it, although I saw him catch me in his peripheral vision, he turned away and I caught the side of his head as he turned to tell an older white man, in an FSU zip-up hoodie, the same thing “good morning, we are glad to have you here.” Of course I felt some type of way, quickly rebounding I noticed the same attendant directing people towards open kiosks for self check-in. People that had come up after I had. When there was an open kiosk he never once turned to acknowledge me and let me know it was available. So I went along and did so myself.
All the attendants reminded me of worker bees, never stepping out of line while accomplishing their tasks. What was weird was that they seemed to be making eye contact with everyone but me.
Whatever.
I got my boarding passes and scooted along to TSA. Which is when I saw black elderly shoeshine man and white gray business suit interact.
Hmmmm. Am I lessening human beings to what is simply their outward appearance? Was I being lessened to what my outward appearance is? Were we all doing it naturally? Things that darted through my mind as I approached TSA.
After my bag was rummaged through to make sure my fruit cups were not terrorist devices I took a seat by my gate.
So, my carry-on suitcase is the right size but it is able to fit more things because it has an expandable zipper part. So I put two pairs of sneakers in there. I’ve taken this carry-on with me on 3-4 other Delta flights, mind you. Usually they ask or offer to check my bag, for free, and either give it to me when I get off the plane or at baggage claim at my final destination.
This morning they didn’t offer, so I asked the two attendants at the gate.
The women said “that’ll be $25 to check your bag.”
A little surprised, I said “nevermind, I just thought it might not fit in the overhead bin,” considering the fact that this was a smaller commercial plane (Tallahassee airport is small.)
“If it doesn’t fit you’ll have to check it for $25 at the front.” She’s looking annoyed now.
I roll past her “thank you.”
When I get on the plane I tell the flight attendant at the front my bag may not fit in the overhead bin. I asked her if we can pink tag it and put it under the plane.
“Oh no that’s only on the barbie flights–the smaller planes.”
I’m looking at her wondering why these folks are treating me like I’ve never been on an airplane.
The aisle on the plane is tight (although this ain’t no “barbie flight” it still ain’t no regular plane.)
I notice a musician I’ve seen play before, a trumpet player who looks to be a little older than I am, mid 20’s maybe. “I think I’ve seen you play before, the sax right?”
“really? nah, the trumpet actually.”
but before I had even approached his seat and spoke to him I caught the bitchy attendant who wanted to charge me $25 for my carry-on, in my peripheral vision. She was pushing past passengers in the single file line, coming down the aisle towards me. There was another flight attendant making her way towards me from the rear of the plane. The rude one spoke over me as I greeted the musician.
“I’m following this bag! It might be too big! She is holding up my boarding process!” she sounded agitated and was speaking so loud people turned to see what she was talking about.
I could feel my face getting hot.
Bitch, I’m holding up your boarding process? You were supposed to begin at 7:05 and waited until 7:10 anyways. You can’t take a second and serve your customer the way you’re SUPPOSED TO???
The other flight attendant approaching from the rear says “that bag is too big,”
the bitch behind me “it’s going to be $25 to check that!”
I felt like I was in the hospital again, when the deck clerk came into my private room to tell me my E.R. visit would be over $500. Before the doctor had come to see me. And I had only come cuz I thought I had a tampon pushed too far up in me and I didn’t. But anyways, it was with the same bitter disgusted face that this flight attendant asked me for $25 in front of all the passengers on the plane. Right when I started the conversation with the musician.
I swirled around to catch her gaze and match her tone and pitch, to demand respect.
“I DON’T HAVE $25.” I lied.
I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. Who travels without $25 to spare? I have $60 in my pocket but will be spending a week away from home so I want to make it last.
She prys ” YOU DON’T HAVE A CREDIT CARD!?”
“NO, I DON’T HAVE A BANK ACCOUNT,” I push it even further. Let me make you feel just as uncomfortable as you wanna make me feel.
I had this whole long drawn out emotional experience written on pen and pad and I’m not sure where that pad is, but hope you enjoyed the minute by minute details of my experience here, just channeling my frustrations through the pen onto the page. I do remember what happened on the flight though. They stowed my bag in a compartment in the front of the plane, free of charge. 🙂
MELANIE Andrade williams 