I was 2 hours early, but I missed the boarding call...and the personal announcements for Ms. Rudder. I never saw anyone board because it was a small flight, no lines. I sat in the waiting area. I called Mom. She asked why I wasn't on the plane (good ol' mom). It was past time for the plane to be in the air; I just thought it had been delayed.
I reached into my pocket, and alas, no boarding ticket. For once I'd printed it at home, and apparently the recycled paper folded up into a small square in my shallow pocket must have fallen out and been swept up (the cleaner was just coming out of the bathroom when I went back in to check).
I waited at the desk as they helped another person. I wasn't panicking yet. It wasn't until I asked them about what I should do about my lost boarding pass that I realized that the passengers had already boarded. It hadn't taken off because they were de-icing it. Can I still get on? We'll have to ask the pilot.....(panic sets in). The pilot says no, it's too slippery now that they have started de-icing. But I have boots on! It's only three steps into the plane! I have to make this flight! OMG, I can't miss this flight! I've been here for 2 hours! I didn't hear you call to board the plane (etc). (now i'm making a scene)
We'll ask the pilot again..... So while I am beating my head against the wall in total disbelief that this happened, the other guy at the desk says, so can I see your boarding pass? Um, no, I lost it. Did you check any bags? No, I've just got this little bag here (and I just walked up to the gate and no authority has seen proof of who I am or that I ever bought a ticket). No comment. The other comes to get me. The pilot has miraculously agreed. We walk to the plane. The stewardess asks if I have a ticket. I say yes, but have nothing to show her so nonchalantly move to a seat. (I cannot f--king believe I just got on that plane.)
From there it was a breeze. I was expecting mobs at the airport, but no, that was on the way home. Most people had already arrived. After dinner, we hit the bars on 18th St. It was crowded and full of energy. It was novel enough to do a bar scene after years away from that. At one point, I found myself to be one of three white-looking people in a place filled with African-American-looking people. The music was cool, and people were more singing/rapping along than getting into the dancing. I really wished I knew the words.
The next day we were in the crowd filled streets, everyone headed in the same direction. We parked ourselves by the Washington Monument. Being on a slight hill, we had views all around. I don't normally fear being trampled to death, but having read a couple of good books describing such an awful scene, and having with us my nephew in a stroller, the hill felt instinctively safer somehow.
I felt a little childish being free from my own parenting responsibilities. Having a hard time concentrating on the speech and being very short, I searched for faces and saw mostly the backs of hoods and hats. The shadow of the monument behind me inched closer, and when I'd turn around to take it all in, it always surprised me how enormous this thing was, darkly shadowed with sunlit flags flapping all around. I jumped up and down in a vain attempt to keep warm. I felt a little dizzy and nauseated from shivering for so long. The bright sun and the cold and the thrill of the moment made me feel silly and happy to be with all the strangers, but I couldn't wait to get to a bar. We stumbled towards warmth, giddy and exhausted.
