Not sure what to do. Wait until the next flight? Try to make this one? Or find a place to rest? One thing I know for sure– there was no way we were going to leave our information behind holding fresh documents and petty cash. One of us has to go back. Will it be me or Kim?
It’s 6:30 am. The train makes it first stop. We get off. Ms. Puerto Rico is asking, “Who’s going back to the gate?!” I make the decision. “Kim go! I’m gonna go back–where is it?!” “It’s on the floor–right where I left it!” Kim says, “Okay- but where?!” I ask. Kim’s feeling frustrated. “Just look on the floor!” she says. We depart for different routes. Ms. Puerto Rico says “The next train is coming soon. It will take us alllllllll the way back to the the security check-in” We hop on the train. She’s shaking her head in dismay. Me?… I’m agitated.
The train stops. Ms. Puerto Rico and I get off to look for the bag. I’m lost not knowing which way to go. I run around in circles, and Ms. Puerto Rico spots the bag. It’s right where Kim left it. I grab the bag, and we run for the train. The train is taking off without us. We missed it by 3sec. Now we wait for next train. It arrives. We get on with anticipation. This time, the next train decides to take a break. Too long of a break that Ms. Puerto Rico starts to swear #cuss at the automated voice conductor. “Would you shut up?!…You blah blah blah” I’m startled. So many swears I can’t remember. Her words still didn’t make the train move. Finally, we take off.
It’s 6:41 am. I hop off-she hops off with me. I run towards gate 20; she walks fast behind me screaming for me to turn right. I have my backpack on and holding Kim’s in my left hand. The extra weight is slowing me down. I keep running. I eventually see Kim walking my way…. her walk is too smooth and too relaxed waving her hands from afar saying “It’s fine–calm down.”
“Huh?” I’m perplexed. I start running and walking up to her to get a better understanding. We meet. “Chill—… she says they are waiting on quite a few people.” Referring to a conversation that occurred with her and the flight attendant while I was on runaway.
The flight attendant looks at me and says, “You’re ok– you can relax and go on board.”
It’s 7:10 am. We sit in our assigned seats, 27 E and 27 F. Plenty of leg room and space. Time to take off. No– Wait. … I lied. Not yet.
“Do you speak Spanish?” The young flight attendant ask.
“A little.” I reply.
“Un poco” Kim says.
“You need to speak our language in case of an emergency; this is the exit row.” We move from the emergency row to another section.
Now it’s time to take off.