Trip type: Personal
By the time I realized my last flight pre-baby would be to Tulsa, Oklahoma, it was too late to plan anything slightly more…glamorous…in its stead. Not that the purpose of the trip wasn’t worthy–we were attending some very good friends’ wedding in the bride’s home state–but the Southern Plains weren’t high on my list for a final excursion.
I knew when I saw we were boarding out of MSP’s A gate that it was going to be a small flight. The A gate is sort of the end of the MSP airport line and usually where you can find regional flights on teeny planes to places that aren’t quite as desirable/populated/connection-worthy as other locales. My assumptions were proven correct when we showed up to A6 with its 10 chairs and saw a lovely quartet in head-to-toe camo apparel discussing the latest copy of Guns & Ammo. Clearly my people.
The flight went smoothly enough and in less than two hours we found ourselves in Tulsa. You know the song (the Oklahoma song) with the bit about “where the wind comes whistling down the plain”? I can’t confirm I actually heard the wind whistle but I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a tumbleweed across the Tarmac:
Seeing these surroundings, you’ll understand the surprise I felt when the pilot came on to say that we’d be parked for a little while because both grounds crews were busy elsewhere. Yes, both of them. I know I’m kind of a snob but I still had to laugh at this.
Luckily, it wasn’t long before Larry and Bob* were able to bring us into the gate and we were off and running for a weekend of excitement. The wedding was a blast and I was thrilled to find I could still handle the hora in 3″ heels.
The quietness of the Tulsa airport was definitely appreciated for the flight home where there were probably as many TSA agents as morning passengers. Sheryl and I were fast friends though:
Me: Do you like boots directly on the conveyor or in a bin?
Sheryl: How sweet of you to ask! We like them in a bin.
Me: Works for me! At MSP they seem to like them directly on the belt but I like to observe the local customs.
Sheryl: “Local customs”! I love that!
Well, I am a charmer after all. After E and I went through the line I don’t think anyone else came through our lane for a solid five minutes. It was incredible.
Home once again, it appears I will be in Minnesota for the foreseeable future. It’s weird to look at my Delta app and see that after several solid years of at least one flight a month, it’s as wide open as a Tulsa Tarmac, but so it goes. All for a great cause.
If you’re concerned with how you’ll live without me/the blog for a while, fret not. I have some more archive posts up my sleeve and will post as I get them written. Plus it’s only a matter of time until there are posts about travel with a kid. I preemptively shudder at the thought.