Leaving Kansas
We knew when we had enough and got the hell out of Dodge.
The trip back was easy enough. The roads weren't covered with bloody deer and we made an hour stop at a friend’s house in Wichita to break up the trip. They had kids there, so Mia was stoked to get out of the car and play for a bit. I went uber-geek and broke out the iPAQ, equipped with Pocket Streets, to find a Taco Grande in Wichita for us to grab food at. I didn't gloat over it too much -- I just kissed it and tucked it back in to its black diaper.
We were all really anxious to get back to Portland, but the most dreaded part of the trip was approaching: trying to leave Kansas City International Airport. The last couple experiences we've had there were extremely painful. Pain. Full. This time was likely the worst.
Returning the rental car was a breeze, so I should have been suspicious about what would happen next. The rental shuttle driver drops us off at the Southwest boarding gate and we hop off with 2 kids, 2 car seats, backpacks slung, and bags in tow. We walk up to the doors of the lobby and suddenly remember why KCI/MCI sucks so much horse cocky. First of all, there is no sky-cap. Walk your bags up to the counter and stand in line like everyone else, fuckers.
Secondly, the jackass who dropped us off put us in front of the Southwest boarding gate and not the check-in counter. So, we went for a quarter-mile walk around the airport to check in. On the way, we pass our gate, safely behind security glass.
At the counter, the security folks were checking every single bag being checked for flight. This made the normal check-in process go from 5 minutes at the counter to 15 minutes -- for every person.
Finally, we head back to our gate to find out that in order to access the gate, you have to walk to the beginning of the gate check-in area -- only another quarter mile further down the length of the airport. I mean, we're staring at our gate (which passengers were now starting to board), merely 10 yards in front of us. We trucked off to the gate entrance area and security check area, trying to keep the pleasant thought of being home soon. As we neared the entrance, there came the sound of live rock-like music being blasted out from the construction area next door. Incredulously, we asked the first of 8 security checkpoint personnel why -- sweet, fat jesus on the table -- why? The explanation was something about how their new wing was being built and the workers were having a little party. Yeah, that's what you need at this poorly designed airport: more of it. Hell, add another wing for people to have to walk thru before getting to their gate.
Anyway, we made it on the plane and I was thankful for being out of that atrocity of an airport. The ride home was quick and this time when we got off the plane we were approached by 2 different individuals who remarked how well behaved and wonderful little traveler Mia was. So, she went from being the "screamer" on the flight out, to the "angel" for the flight home.
I'm all done talking about Kansas now. Now I'll revert back to talking about the kitchen, Thanksgiving, and how much my job sucks.
The trip back was easy enough. The roads weren't covered with bloody deer and we made an hour stop at a friend’s house in Wichita to break up the trip. They had kids there, so Mia was stoked to get out of the car and play for a bit. I went uber-geek and broke out the iPAQ, equipped with Pocket Streets, to find a Taco Grande in Wichita for us to grab food at. I didn't gloat over it too much -- I just kissed it and tucked it back in to its black diaper.
We were all really anxious to get back to Portland, but the most dreaded part of the trip was approaching: trying to leave Kansas City International Airport. The last couple experiences we've had there were extremely painful. Pain. Full. This time was likely the worst.
Returning the rental car was a breeze, so I should have been suspicious about what would happen next. The rental shuttle driver drops us off at the Southwest boarding gate and we hop off with 2 kids, 2 car seats, backpacks slung, and bags in tow. We walk up to the doors of the lobby and suddenly remember why KCI/MCI sucks so much horse cocky. First of all, there is no sky-cap. Walk your bags up to the counter and stand in line like everyone else, fuckers.
Secondly, the jackass who dropped us off put us in front of the Southwest boarding gate and not the check-in counter. So, we went for a quarter-mile walk around the airport to check in. On the way, we pass our gate, safely behind security glass.
At the counter, the security folks were checking every single bag being checked for flight. This made the normal check-in process go from 5 minutes at the counter to 15 minutes -- for every person.
Finally, we head back to our gate to find out that in order to access the gate, you have to walk to the beginning of the gate check-in area -- only another quarter mile further down the length of the airport. I mean, we're staring at our gate (which passengers were now starting to board), merely 10 yards in front of us. We trucked off to the gate entrance area and security check area, trying to keep the pleasant thought of being home soon. As we neared the entrance, there came the sound of live rock-like music being blasted out from the construction area next door. Incredulously, we asked the first of 8 security checkpoint personnel why -- sweet, fat jesus on the table -- why? The explanation was something about how their new wing was being built and the workers were having a little party. Yeah, that's what you need at this poorly designed airport: more of it. Hell, add another wing for people to have to walk thru before getting to their gate.
Anyway, we made it on the plane and I was thankful for being out of that atrocity of an airport. The ride home was quick and this time when we got off the plane we were approached by 2 different individuals who remarked how well behaved and wonderful little traveler Mia was. So, she went from being the "screamer" on the flight out, to the "angel" for the flight home.
I'm all done talking about Kansas now. Now I'll revert back to talking about the kitchen, Thanksgiving, and how much my job sucks.
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