Travel according to the Pontificator at large, b2
OHARE'S LOST GATE
Deep in the annals of airport myth exists a story so odd even the most jaded road warrior cannot grasp the enormity and banality of the situation. This is my journey to find the infamous gate F1 at Chicago's O'Hare International.
I was first introduced to the story of Gate F1 by an 'Aisler' on the GSP to Charlotte hop.
**Aisler - passenger that utilizes their seat as pivot point to communicate with all other rows in his/her proximity, regardless of the interest level of said passengers, usually with legs stretched way out into the aisle itself.
Artist rendering of a typical Aisler's seat location.
The aisler that had my ear that day was a seasoned pro. And by that I mean she was a prostitute covered in paprika. Weathered and worn by years of layovers, luggage tags, and eight dollar domestic beer she had a legend to share.
Whenever she spoke a distant foreboding look crept into her eyes and a sour dread washed over her completion. It had obviously been a rough week and the paprika was starting to mix with her sweat to form clumps of eye burning fire balls.
"F1 does exist, I saw it myself back in '86. Was on my way to see Yani in Tampa. He wasn't playing a show, but I heard he was making an charity appearance in support of arthritic ferrets."
Yes, actual Ferret X-rays. The internet does truly have everything.
"Excuse me, ah..mam? Weren't you going to tell me about the Lost Gate of O'Hare?"
"The lost what?"
"The Lost Gate of O'Hare, the legend of F1."
"Son, you better think about what you are asking, and truly, deep down in your heart, decide if you are man enough to handle the answer."
"You've never actually seen it have you?" Exasperated and disappointed to have found yet another dead end in my quest for the truth I shook my head ruefully (really I just shook my head, there was no rue).
She took a deep draw from her electronic cigarette and blew water vapor down into her coat pocket, "Kid,...I''ve also never climbed to the top of the Merita Bread signed,.....but I still know it exists."
Mindless I-4/Orlando reference courtesy of Robert Droz
I ran into her again six months later during a layover in St. Louis. She was sharing a package of Dipping Stix candy with a guy I swear was Robin Leach.
Still no concrete evidence that Gate F1 actually exists, but for now the journey continues..............
The best thing to happen to air travel since the drink coupon.
It is indeed the little things in life.
Case in point: listening to Houses of the Holy during take off is as decadent as the warm towels in First Class (I could only imagine.....really, I have to imagine. this puddle jumper only had one section - Wanting.)
Not only did our cabin professional (flight attendant is so 2013) allow us to keep our small portable devices on during the entire flight to O'Hare, but she also prohibited the typical road-warrior practice of working email, or any other occupational pursuits for that matter, by announcing that laptops needed to remain stowed.
These simple, yet highly anticipated, tweaks to the commercial flying experience have allowed us to enter a new golden age of airline travel. It almost makes the layover in Chicago seem palatable.
The TSA and the big domestics have done their part.
NOW ITS OUR TURN:
(sorry for all the CAPS...I forgot that my earbuds were still in and didn't realize I was screaming.)
See you in Eagan - b2.
This page is dedicated to chronicling the journey as seen through a rose colored (as in jaded) lens.
see you in coach - b2