5/19/2011
Munich(ish) Germany
K's Apartment
After leaving the internet cafe where I typed up my last entry, I got myself some food at an airport restaurant called Giraffe. Since I'm in Europe now, and on an Exotic* Adventure Abroad, I ordered...a burger, fries, and a coke. Adventurous!
Then it was time to check in and go through security and all that jazz. I got excited while standing in line because it turns out that in the UK, everyone doesn't have to take off their shoes. However, I'd chosen my shoewear based on American airport security procedures (read: easy to take off) and not UK (read: without metal). So I had to take them off anyway, but the lady was apologetic, and I was downright giddy that the lady in front of me didn't have to take off her pumps. Even though I was barefoot, something on me (my zipper?) set off the metal detector, so I got a brisk and non-traumatic pat-down, and was on my way.
My usual airport procedure is to dump out my water bottle (or chug my water) before security, and find a water fountain once past security to refill it. I'm delicate, and left without water I wither and start to crumble within a few minutes. It's rough. So, guess what? Water fountains? Much less common in Europe.
Even though I'd checked in at the airport (rather than online) for my flight, my boarding pass still said Gate: TV, which I correctly deduced meant I should check the departures monitor for my gate. I don't know if it's an EasyJet thing, a Gatwick think, or what, but the gate was not to be revealed until it was actually time to board, so I parked myself in front of the monitor and cracked open Slaughterhouse Five. In between reading and glancing up at the monitor every 2 minutes even though I knew very well that I had 40 minutes to wait because the monitor both told me what time it was and what time the gate would be revealed (because I am paranoid about these things), I made silent-friends with a 2 or 3 year old. Silent-friends is the term I just made up for when a small child smiles at you, and you smile back, which encourages the small child to keep checking you out to see if you're still smiling, and of course you smile at him every time, because he's tiny and cute. My silent-friend was named David (pronounced Dah-veed). I know this, despite the fact that he and I never said a word, and his parents were not speaking English and we didn't interact (except to silently commiserate the travails of corralling small children in airports) because David was intent on running about, and his male grown-up (presumably dad) kept calling after him. It was fun for me, because I wasn't in charge of David.
Finally (right on time), the departures board told me I was destined for Gate 21. I looked around to smile one more time either at David or his male grown-up, but David was escaping again and dad was on his trail. So I left without saying goodbye, but I don't think it was rude of me. On the way to the gate, I broke down and bought a bottle of water. Parts of me were already turning to dust, so it was imperative.
Immediately after boarding the plane, I disregarded all the advice I had been given by everyone, and fell asleep.
*Or maybe Exotic-lite. It is Western Europe, after all.
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