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khiemtranIt's 12:20pm and I'm waiting impatiently at the baggage claim at San Francisco International. My flight from Sydney was late arriving and I have less than twenty minutes to get through customs and recheck my bag.
One by one, the suitcases emerge, but where is mine? Five minutes pass. Ten minutes. Looks like I've missed my connection. The crowd already me is starting to thin.
Suddenly, there it is! I grab it and run to customs. I'm in luck this time. There isn't a big queue. I get through without a baggage check and race for the transfer sign. Outside customs, a lady is saying "United! United!" and pointing to the end of a long queue. A very long queue. There is no way I am going to make through that in time.
I rush up to the front and a man is already calling through people with one o'clock flights.
"I'm at 12:48!" I tell him.
"You might be too late," he warns me, as I leave my bag and sprint through to the next terminal.
There's a short queue for security to enter the gates, but, just in case, I check the monitors first to see what gate my flight is at. When I get back to the queue, the lady there is telling everyone that the queue is for Business only and Economy passengers have to use the other one. The other one is so far away, I can't see it from this distance.
I sprint through the departure hall, side-stepping passengers like I'm in a video game.
The "Economy" security queue is huge, but there are lots of people in the same boat as me (or at least in the slightly better 1pm boat) and we're let through to the head of the queue again. Then comes then agonisingly slow wait to get through the metal detectors as the minutes tick by.
Out on the other side, I don't even have time to put my shoes back on. I pick them up and run. I hope my gate is close, but I've forgotten the number. I look at at the row of screens and - uh oh, where is it?
The flights are listed by destination. I can see four flights to Los Angeles and then somewhere starting with 'M'. But where is Las Vegas? For a moment, I think I might have missed it already. Or maybe, even worse, I've gone to through the wrong security line. Then I remember that LAS Vegas comes before LOS Angeles. One of the monitors is so dark it's barely readable, and sure enough, there's my flight. Gate 73. Looking up, I see Gate 72 in front of me. I tear off again, only to see Gate 71 on the other side of it. Oops. A lightning turn and I'm skidding off the other way.
Gate 73. And they're still boarding! I stop at the counter and show my boarding pass. "Do you know if my luggage has made it?" I ask. The man thinks for a moment. "Should be okay," he says, confidently. On to the plane, and it's off to Vegas.
Needless to say, my luggage didn't make it, but it did turn up at my hotel around 11:30 that night...
One by one, the suitcases emerge, but where is mine? Five minutes pass. Ten minutes. Looks like I've missed my connection. The crowd already me is starting to thin.
Suddenly, there it is! I grab it and run to customs. I'm in luck this time. There isn't a big queue. I get through without a baggage check and race for the transfer sign. Outside customs, a lady is saying "United! United!" and pointing to the end of a long queue. A very long queue. There is no way I am going to make through that in time.
I rush up to the front and a man is already calling through people with one o'clock flights.
"I'm at 12:48!" I tell him.
"You might be too late," he warns me, as I leave my bag and sprint through to the next terminal.
There's a short queue for security to enter the gates, but, just in case, I check the monitors first to see what gate my flight is at. When I get back to the queue, the lady there is telling everyone that the queue is for Business only and Economy passengers have to use the other one. The other one is so far away, I can't see it from this distance.
I sprint through the departure hall, side-stepping passengers like I'm in a video game.
The "Economy" security queue is huge, but there are lots of people in the same boat as me (or at least in the slightly better 1pm boat) and we're let through to the head of the queue again. Then comes then agonisingly slow wait to get through the metal detectors as the minutes tick by.
Out on the other side, I don't even have time to put my shoes back on. I pick them up and run. I hope my gate is close, but I've forgotten the number. I look at at the row of screens and - uh oh, where is it?
The flights are listed by destination. I can see four flights to Los Angeles and then somewhere starting with 'M'. But where is Las Vegas? For a moment, I think I might have missed it already. Or maybe, even worse, I've gone to through the wrong security line. Then I remember that LAS Vegas comes before LOS Angeles. One of the monitors is so dark it's barely readable, and sure enough, there's my flight. Gate 73. Looking up, I see Gate 72 in front of me. I tear off again, only to see Gate 71 on the other side of it. Oops. A lightning turn and I'm skidding off the other way.
Gate 73. And they're still boarding! I stop at the counter and show my boarding pass. "Do you know if my luggage has made it?" I ask. The man thinks for a moment. "Should be okay," he says, confidently. On to the plane, and it's off to Vegas.
Needless to say, my luggage didn't make it, but it did turn up at my hotel around 11:30 that night...
