Rasma Says

Musings, deliberations, flashes of unaccounted for brilliance…

Business Travel 101

So, the one time I try to do like other “frequent travellers” and use my SMART phone as a boarding card…. I stand there like a ninny PRETENDING I can easily find the fricking bookmarked Safari page that had the fricking barcode on it last night when I so suavely checked in via SMS, but that fails because it seems I have to log onto the fricking airport Wifi or put in my ticket number or the blood type of my firstborn or some other coded information, so instead of the bookmark I go to find the SMS because I had sent myself a SMS with a LINK to the fricking bookmarked barcoded boarding card; but it is like looking at pebbles under water because the list of messages is all blurry and some of them have pink and yellow splotches which probably are smiley faces or ironic smiley faces, meaning they came from my daughter, and none of them look like they contain the letters SAS, which is who sent me the boarding card, I am sure of it, there was a boarding card here last night, and I saved it on my phone; and now the Securitas Guard says he doesn’t need the actual boarding card, the SMS will do, and I say yes, I know, I am just about to find it here somewhere, but none of the SMS’s, of which my SMART PHONE has logged thousands for posterity, resemble a boarding card as I flick through them trying to make out shapes that could be the right SMS; Why don’t you step aside and let these people go through while you look for your boarding card, says the uniformed guard, so I mumble okay and reach for my bag but this he snatches and puts behind him saying, I’ll just keep this here… so I have to actually ADMIT that I can’t see a damn thing without MY GLASSES that are IN THAT BAG, but he still doesn’t give me the bag, just offers it forth so I can paw through it in front of a queue of at least 100 people WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF IN MY BAG? until I find the black glasses case, snap it open, snap it shut as the guard pulls my bag away and sets it behind him again and waves me back from the queue to allow a small group of Americans to pass, so I stand there, shoeless and stupid, flipping through the long list of SMS’s that are only slightly more recognizable with my glasses on, until I DO FIND the one that last night produced a PERFECTLY LEGIBLE BOARDING CARD, and even though it now is just a hyperlink I thrust my arm between two of the Americans to let the Securitas Guard take a look at my SMART PHONE; he shakes his head and sighs deeply, more like a gasp, and says he has never seen the likes of it and asks where am I going anyway and probably because I answer Tromsø instead of Beirut or Pyongyang he says, Just go, go on through, it doesn’t matter, here, take your bag, put your glasses in here (you sorry pathetic excuse for a traveler)… at which point I see with some satisfaction that the Americans have gotten caught up in their own little drama so the belt is sending their bags back and forth, forward and reverse, through the X-ray machine and they themselves are being sent back and forth through the security portal, so I am TECHNICALLY not the one holding up the line now, in fact now I waltz right through without eliciting even a peep from the security portal despite not having produced a legitimate boarding card, so on my way past the How Did You Experience Security Control Display I happily press the green smiley face, I mean, that WAS good service wasn’t it, even though the guard shrugged like it was my problem not his when I mumbled, But I’ll need the boarding card to get on the plane won’t I? For once I am early, so there are empty chairs right up by the gate where I settle down to find the boarding card, which of course is there as soon as I log onto the airport’s WIFI, which apparently you DO NEED to get your electronic boarding card, NOW WE KNOW THAT, so I sit and wait for the plane, keeping my phone pulsating, upright and unlocked, silently willing it to not to go asleep or hibernate, bargaining with it to NOT LOCK THE SCREEN, juggling it to keep active from hand to hand until the gate opens, at which point I jump up, grab the rest of my baggage with one hand and march up to the ticket collector with the phone in the other announcing, I HAVE MY BOARDING CARD HERE ON MY SMART PHONE! Ok, put it under the scanner, he says, pointing to the machine where I neatly place the phone with its active boarding card barcode FACE DOWN; we both regard the scanner light reflecting off my fancy red and yellow paisley SMART PHONE COVER before he says, Um, you’ll need to turn it overOh of course, of course, I say, reading to turn the phone, hoping against hope that the boarding card will STILL BE THERE, triumphant when it is. Have a good trip, says the ticket agent handing me the little slip of paper showing my seat in aisle 7, the one I booked last night when I checked in via SMS to save TIME and avoid HASSLE at the airport. Thanks, I say to the ticket agent as I blunder past the counter. You too.


This entry was posted on 20/06/2013 by in Uncategorized and tagged , , .
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