Where Love Begins, Reason Ends

The snowing has ended, but the wind and snow remain. Drivers sail down cleared roads between walls of filthy ice. Parking is a bit of a problem, as is walking on sidewalks or waiting for the bus since the snow has to go somewhere and curbs, sidewalks, and bus stops seem to be that somewhere.

Meanwhile, I'm supposed to fly out to visit the Gentleman Caller this evening. This has been my main anxiety in this latest deluge of snow. This last gap between visits has been the second longest since we've been together, and our happy, in-love selves were fortunate enough to have this opportunity fall on Valentine's Day. Normally, I hate the day -- and I can save those stories for another post -- but he just brings out the complete, goofy, sappy idiot in me, and I adore it. I adore it especially because he isn't given to patronizing remarks, ignoring me, or treating me as an audience or a blow-up doll, and he never ever mansplains. I adore it because I know that he's actually on my side.

Anyway, enough of the gush. I'm supposed to fly up to see him this evening, and have been holding my breath about the airports being open. Of the three in the area, the one furthest away has opened. The one I'm supposed to fly out of is still closed, but they anticipate it being open later today. The problem seems to be lack of places to put the snow; but the runways end at the confluence of two rivers, so you would think that they could just shove the snow into the water, right? I suppose it isn't that easy. Still, it seems like an idea.

An open airport is only half of the problem. The other half is getting to the airport. Normally, I drive to one of the train stations that has extended-stay parking, hop on the train, and hop off at the airport. No muss, no fuss, I can read on the way. The trains, however, are only running below ground. Below ground train stations don't have parking, much less extended parking. My usual station is at the end of many, many above ground stops.

This means that I'll have to drive to the airport, which lies to the far side of the city. Enter part b of problem 2. What will the traffic be like getting there? The traffic on a significant chunk of the highway there is legendary, so what will it be like today? Fewer people on the road, since most business have closed for the rest of the week; but those on the road will be cramped into fewer lanes because the snow has to go somewhere and the side lanes are that somewhere. Should I head out now, 10 hours early?

Once I get to the airport, I anticipate part c of problem 2. Will they have parking spaces? Lots of parking garages have let people keep their cars in them rather than park on curbs in order to help snowplows clear the roads more efficiently. Also, this part c of problem 2 will most likely coincide with part b of problem 1 in that, with all of the cancelled and delayed flights, the airport will be packed with frustrated, angry, exhausted travellers.

You just KNOW that the airline policies will not be particularly accommodating to their needs, either, because airline companies are studies in abysmal customer service. I'm envisioning a riot between passengers and the employees on the front lines, both on their last nerves, who start by slugging each other and throwing luggage and pulling hair and gnashing teeth. Then, they will all turn on the airlines and rip down signs and commandeer airplanes, shouting "power to the passengers!" They will overwhelm security, who will all say, "fuck it! I don't get paid enough to put up with this shit" and start flinging bins and smashing wands and overturning metal detectors.

Wouldn't that be awesome! I'll take pictures if that happens.

Meanwhile, why do I insist on going up to the far north to see my Gentleman Caller? Why not reschedule, since the airline is allowing rescheduling without "penalty" if your rescheduled flight departs within fourteen days of the original flight (so very kind of them, don't you think)? Why not wait until next week, or the next week? Why now? Why today?

Because I want to see my Gentleman Caller. Because, where love begins, reason ends.