My husband Brian and I boarded our first plane that afternoon at the Charlottetown Airport, Prince Edward Island, Canada. By the time we got to Detroit International Airport and endured the nightmare of custom inspection, we were pretty worn out. We were also hungry. Detroit was our last stop on the way home.
"That burger and fries that businessman has looks absolutely scrumptious. Where do you suppose he got it?" I asked Brian.
"Excuse me, sir," Brian inquired. "Where did you get your dinner?" The man pointed to a rather busy restaurant-lounge close by the secure waiting area.
"Let's go," I said.
Brian and I sat down at a table that had two monitors, so folks could play computer games. "It looks real busy in here," Brian remarked. "When do you suppose the waitress will take our order?"
"I don't know. Do you want to dine in or carry out?"
"We're already seated. Let's just eat here."
After waiting for half an hour, we were getting rather nervous. It was nearing time to board our plane.
"Why are those waiters taking food outside in the waiting area? Why don't they take our order?" I wondered.
"I think I'll play a game on this monitor while we wait." Brian pressed a button. "Here's a dinner menu."
"Is that how we order?"
"Well, I don't know."
"Do you think that little pocket underneath is where we stick our credit card?"
"Could be."
"I want number 10, the cheeseburger and onion rings."
"How do we order 10?"
"Is there a button we can push?"
"I don't see one."
"Should we ask someone?"
"Do you want to look like a simpleton?"
"I don't care," I said. "I just want something to eat."
I spotted one of the running waiters. "Excuse me, can you tell me how to order from these cyber menus?" He ignored me.
"Maybe I can edge up to the bar and watch someone else order." Unfortunately, everyone at the bar had all they needed. They were using the monitors to play games and gamble.
"I've had enough," Brian stated when I got back to the table. "These people at this restaurant are rude and preoccupied."
"Maybe if we stick our credit card into the monitor slot, we'll get some action."
"What and have somebody steal our personal information! No way. I want to pay cash money for our dinner."
My mouth was still watering as I spotted a man eating spaghetti and meatballs. It smelled heavenly.
"Is that lady talking to herself?" I asked when we left the restaurant and were nearing the boarding area.
"She's got a fancy drink. Maybe she's intoxicated."
Although the woman had a pretty pink drink, complete with umbrella, she was not intoxicated. Nor was she talking to herself. When I got closer, I saw that she was face to face with her boss on a communal laptop, discussing her progress on the Hinsey report, whatever that was.
Eventually, Brian spotted a man getting out his wallet at a Subway restaurant. "Now that's wholesome food!" he exclaimed. We both ordered a tuna salad sub, bag of chips and coffee.
"I feel old and out of touch at this airport," I remarked. "Even my luggage is old-fashioned."
Surveying his frayed carry-on, Brian said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's pretty bad when we don't even know how to order dinner." We ate our cold sandwiches in silence.
Laurie Lechlitner can be contacted by email at Lauriel ech@aol.com.