Reading Dragon's post on airports just reminded me of why I don't fly anymore.  Its not that I'm afraid of flying, its that I just hate dealing with it.  All the dumbass aiport employees, rude flight attendeants and all of the people in general just irritate me.

Three years ago I had to go to from Southern Ohio to St. Paul, Minn. twice. 

The first time was by plane.  I left the house at 6 a.m. Drove 2 hours to Columbus airport arriving the then customary 2 hours early. Went through the arrival line, then the luggage line then headed for the security line.  After taking off my shoes and getting pulled to the side for the "Jesus Pose" with the wand while everbody watched, I got to wait 20 minutes for my plane to board.  Changed planes in Chicago-THAT SUCKS.  Chicago airport is layed out like a giant horseshoe. I deplaned on one side and then got to walk the 45 minute trip to the other side to wait on my plane. I can't believe the amount of people you can cram into one dirty airport. After arriving at my gate, I am greeted by a sign that says they moved my gate to another back down at the bottom of the horseshoe.  After another 20 minutes walk I found my gate and was allowed to ait another hour for a delayed flight.

After boarding a Northwest DC-9 (I believe they have all of the DC-9's now) which is older than I am, we taxi out onto the Tarmak to await in a very crowded line of planes. Just before it is our turn to get the hell out of that nasty city, the plane turns around and heads back to the terminal. Apparently while waiting the plane decided it needed servicing. Hell. I'm 40 years old just like the plane and I needed servicing by this time.  They decided to keep us on board for 45 minutes while they did something to the plane—I swear I saw a Ford Type 1 oil filter get tossed into the back of the service truck like it had just been removed from the plane.  Finally, we get to go wait in line for a runway. After my 1 hour morphed into 3.5 hour layover in Chicago, I fly to Minneapolis.

Minneapolis is a large airport too. Not as many people as Chicago but cleaner (people as well as buildings).  After deplaning, we get to hike down a bunch of stairs and escalators to what I swear must be 6 stories below the terminal to wait on our luggage.  After about 45 minutes, they finally spit our luggage out on the moving belt and we scramble to claim it before it disappears back into the giant luggage eating machine.  We then make our way dragging our luggage up a few flights of stairs and escalaters to find the Rent a car area.  We stand in line for another 1/2 hour before Apoo hands me a set of keys and points me to the rent-a-car field of dreams.  This is a large parking lot full of rental cars and I begin my search for a gold Buick in a sea of gold Buicks.  After locating the parking space number my car is SUPPOSED to be in I find that there is zero cars in the space. So I return, dragging a weeks worth of clothes back to find Apoo.  After waiting another 10 minutes, Appo discovers he doesn't know the fiffence between 11-j and 2-i and sends me back out to the field of dreams. I find space 2-i with a gold Buick and insert the key in the trunk to finally get rid of these heavy winter clothes (did I mention it is February in Minneapolis-FUCK-it was like 7 degrees) and the key doesn't turn. It was then that I examined the keys closer-apparently Apoo doesn't know the difference between a FORD and a GM key either.  20 minutes later I get to drive out of the field of dreams.

That is when I get to merge into lovely big city rushhour traffic.  I really love driving a large car in unfamiliar areas during a traffic jam while its snowing and is 7 dgrees outside.  I am such a patient person and all. Finally, after another 2.5 hours, at 8 p.m, I pull into my hotel in St. Paul. Adjusting for the time difference, total travel time is 13 hours.

The next time, I decide to drive. I leave my house at 6 a.m. I arrive at the same hotel in St. Paul at 7 p.m.  An hour shorter, no strange car, no strange people crowding me and I didn't have to drag my luggage more than 15' on either end of the trip. Unless its like Vegas or something, I ain't flying no more.