Unlike Shaina, Anthony and I who were flying back to New York with Delta, Pusha was flying with AA and she had to be dropped off at a different terminal.
We were sorry to have to part company with our small (short) but very funny companion, and so was she.
“I am on the same flight with the boring people,” she said, alluding to people we knew.
“You should have checked what flight we were on, before booking,” I laughed as we pulled up to the curb of the American Airline terminal.
But her car door wouldn’t open.
“Oh, that door is broken,” our friend the driver told us.
“Oh great! Not only you jumped in the car and left us battling in the cold with the luggage, but you went and sat next to the door that doesn’t open and now we’ve all got to get out to let you out,” I said pretending to be grumpy. Still, amidst loud moaning and groaning (laughing) Shaina, the luggage, laptops, our bags and I got out to let little Miss Pushpa out.
Piling back in the car, we drove off in search of the Delta terminal.
Now it was time to say goodbye to our kind driver, and the reason why I haven’t said her name is because, I’m embarrassed to say, I don’t remember it.
I know, I know, but what can I say? We’d only met earlier in the hotel lobby with all the other people leaving and all the luggage… But she was really nice and kind and patient with all our laughter and nonsense and I am very grateful. I hope the rest of her journey was safe and uneventful.
Both Shaina and I had printed our boarding passes at the hotel and we were good to go, but Anthony hadn’t and while he printed his, Shaina checked the monitor for our gate.
“What’s our gate?” I asked.
“I’ll follow you guys,” I said.
Giggling and skipping I followed my friends to security. Boarding pass and ID in hands we were moving along the security line, when Anthony stopped short:
“There’s Swamiji,” he said. “Amma must be coming.”
i spun around and seeing the unmistakable orange robes, I dropped all my belongings in the security line and dashed headlong, as Shaina said, like a teenager looking for the Beatles, in pursuit of Swamiji.
“Swamiji,” I said panting, when I caught up him. “Is Amma coming?”
“No,” he smiled kindly. I am flying to New York
“You are coming to New York?”
“No, I have a mileage ticket and am flying back to India via New York.”
“Oh, I see. Safe journey Swamiji,” I said, holding my hands together in front of my heart before turning around to rejoin my companions. But they too had left the security line (and my belongings unattended) to come and see Swamiji.
“He’s on his own,” I told them. “Amma is still at the hotel,” I explained while trying to rejoin my suitcase, while they kept going.
Eventually we were all back together again waiting to go through security, (and it is a wonder that with all our antics, we weren’t pulled aside) and Anthony told us that he’d found out that Swamiji was on our same flight to New York.
We were so excited, that it took us forever to get our things organized in the plastic trays that go through the x-ray machine.
“That’s the most action I’ve had in a long time,” Anthony said, joining us after being patted down by one of the security guys. It made me start laughing all over again and I just stood in front of the escalator without moving.
“Why aren’t you getting on the escalator?” asked Anthony.
“So we get to our gate, that’s what for?”
“You go ahead and I’ll follow you.”
And off we went.
But if you’ve never been to Detroit International Airport, let me tell you that it is huge.
Between both ends of the terminal, there are miles of concourse, miles!
See you tomorrow.