Finding the Happy

I’m an avowed introvert. I know this about myself. My introverted nature can create an interesting challenge when traveling, because traveling generally means that I must leave my home and go out in public, with strangers. And there’s only so much of that I can take before I want to run and hide. I’m not shy; I just feel worn out around crowds after a while.

Sometimes, though, I will venture out and find myself in the midst of a crowded place, and remember why I enjoy traveling as much as I do.

Today was one of those days. I started off my day in a funk. We had a blizzard yesterday that dropped a foot and a half of snow on us over the course of a day. Today, we got to dig out – in sub-zero temperatures. Walking in to work from my car means trudging through snow in my warmest boots and layers and layers of clothing. I was leaving from work straight to the airport, so I also had my suitcase packed, my backpack to carry-on, my gym bag (for my lunchtime workout), and another bag with my dress shoes for the day. It was a lot of bags, a lot of fussing, and lot of hauling of crap through frigid temperatures and snowy everything.

Was it the end of the world? No. But it was annoying and a hassle.

I got to the airport and struggled with switching out from my snow boots to the sneakers I would wear on the plane while in the airport parking lot. The door to my car kept blowing open, and did I mention it was very, very cold? I made it to the airport and breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth, knowing I was on my way to warmer climates.

Then, the niceness started. First, there was no one else in line at the TSA Precheck lane, so I guess the TSA agents were bored, because the man at the metal detector joked that “you’re finally here!” I went through the metal detector and my new friend smiled and wished me a happy trip.

On my plane, I don’t even know how to describe the crew that boarded after me. I have no idea if they all knew each other or not but they sure all acted like best friends. They were cracking silly jokes while walking down the aisle to their seats, and when the plane lifted off the ground, there were cheers and “Whoohoooooo” coming from the back of the plane. Those of us in the middle of the plane couldn’t help but smile.  

I somehow managed to find the two nicest people to have as seatmates. Jason, the man in the middle seat, introduced himself and shook my hand. He then said that he was aware he had broad shoulders and he would do his best not to touch me but he was sorry if he did. No problem at all, I said. I get it. Plus, we had scored emergency exit seats and had leg room for days. All was well.

The woman in the middle seat was his girlfriend (whose name I did not catch), and we chatted a bit off and on over the course of the flight. They had a tight connection at BWI and asked if I was familiar with the airport. Ha, was I?! That’s my home airport, I know it well. I looked up their gate info on the Southwest app and told them they would have no problem making their flight. They were amazed at the app because they don’t fly much and didn’t realize there was an app.

When the flight attendant came by, they asked for two large cups of ice. She said they only have one size, but she would fill the cups as much as possible. She brought the cups and walked away. The next thing I know, my new best friend brought a full size bottle of rum out of his carry on bag and proceeded to fill his cup and his girlfriend’s. It was so funny I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he could get in trouble if a flight attendant saw that. After I finished my beverage, he offered to share. I took him up on it, because why the hell not?

As the flight went on, Jason was talking about the animals he used to work with at a zoo. I used to work at a zoo. He said he would still work there if it paid enough to live on. Me too, I said. He is Italian and his family is from southern Italy (me too) and he is now learning Italian (me too, me too, me too!).

It’s so easy to feel crammed into a metal tube, with little space, little choice, little freedom of movement. Often, airline travel is to be tolerated as a means to get to the final destination. But sometimes, the stars align and I meet others who are simply enjoyable. Then, I remember why I love travel as much as I do. Venturing out of my comfort zone does mean that I may encounter people whose company I do not enjoy, but it also means I could meet some enjoyable people who make me smile.