I opted for a hotel last night. This involved lugging two panniers and a sixty pound box up to the third floor and back, then up into the back of a shuttle, back out of the shuttle, over to the check-in kiosk, which is completely abandoned when I arrive. Great. Fortunately, I am not the only one. There were plenty of others with strange luggage, although I could see the questions burning in their eyes over my peculiar luggage. At 3 in the morning, I was not inclined to indulge. At last, some weathered, apathetic minions appear. Well well, how much will they take me for, $200? $300?
They can’t figure out how to check in a bike so they just slap a sticker on it, free of charge! Yeah! Freaking triddley-dee, I just gained another couple weeks of funds! Yes yes yes. It is even going to be transferred to the other plane for me. Lovely.
Now, over to the “oversized luggage” section. I stand there, before an apparently abandoned room that says “No trespassing under penalty of law” and such. Am I just supposed to leave it here? I poke my head in the room. Ah, there is a person in here! Oh, my, she is real crabby. Real, real disgruntled. I almost get indignant, but instead I back-pedal and put on my cutest face. “On the table. Put it on the table!” Ooookay, let me just pop this 60 pound box up on a three foot table, no problem. This lady proceeded to unpack the box, clumsily and with plenty of ire, examining everything. I had to help her open it, pull the bike out, unclip pannier straps, and close it back up. I was sweating bullets, it was like being trapped in a room with a rabid dog. TSA. No drugs in my panniers! Goodness gracious, I did feel bad for her though. That sucker is full, and meticulously packed, by necessity only. She taped it up with some crappy “passed inspection” tape and I reinforced it with the gorilla tape I brought. I almost told her the drugs were in the tape, but for some reason, decided against it.
The bike is en route! I am en route! The realization comes in waves. This is happening!