To Begin At The Beginning

Home alone. Judy is already in Vienna at her conference. I have the honor of delivering Boef to the Miami Cat Hotel. As you can see, he just loves the carry case. He has such a happy, unworried look on his face. NOT. The case implies a trip to the vet, which implies cold, slippery feet and a dreaded shot. So, I get him into the box at home by fooling him and shoving him in backwards. He cries all the way in the car. I have learned not to say his name or stick my finger in the wire to comfort him. I put on NPR and hope the talking will be a relief. The Cat Hotel is about 45 minutes drive from our apartment. It is located in what is called "Horse Country" here in Miami-Dade County. A lovely area to the south-west of the city. There are large horse ranches here that are surprising after the city disappears behind the car. We are met by a lovely, happy lady, Jolie, who is bubbling with joy: "Oh, here is your friend. How do you say his name? He will have such a good time here looking out at the trees and brook. He will love the climbing room. Hello, little friend." At that point, she leaned forward and looked into the box. Boef reacted perfectly: he hissed and bared his teeth and put his ears back in the fighting position. "Oh, mister is a bit grumpy this morning. No worry. He'll be fine, won't you?" Boef hissed louder and even growled. "Well, I see you are ready to go to your home. Here, Mr. Richard, sign the papers and leave your friend with me." I signed him away, said good-bye and left the hissing monster with the friendly lady, thinking, "What have I done? He isn't happy, you can't fool me." I got back in the car with a feeling that I have betrayed his confidence and that the next ten days would teach that friendly, happy lady what a real cat was like. Not a wimpy little lap cat, not Boef.
To appease my guilt, I stopped at a supermarket on the way home, and bought a package of Magnum All-Chocolate Ice Cream Bars AND a box of four delicious looking chocolate cupcakes. I'll teach him to be unhappy. Anyway, Judy isn't home, so I can poison myself at will.
It was about noon when I finally got home. Now, I had to pack my suitcase. I hadn't even brought it out because Boef freaks out when he sees a suitcase.
Judy had left me a small pile of clothes to bring to London. I decided to pack a sport coat and two nice pair of pants and LOTS of underwear and socks AND six shirts, a couple of bow ties and a pair of shoes AND a jacket AND a sweater AND a Freedberg of Boston golf cap and who knows what else. The carry-on would be put on the baggage anyway, so all I needed was my knapsack with about two hundred items. The packing took all of 15 minutes and I still had three hours to wait before I had to leave for the airport.
This gave me time to wash and scrub both bathrooms and completely empty and clean and refill Boef's cat toilet box. This left me two hours to wait. Okay, make lunch, that'll eat up the time. A salad, toast, water, a cupcake AND a Magnum and clean up and that left one hour and a half to wait. Hey, I'll sit in the sun for a while and read and work up a final tan before the London weather. Okay, that lasted 45 minutes and NOW a shower, shave and get ready. The time was only 2:30 and I was NOT going to leave until 3:00. Walk around the apartment back and forth like a caged animal and touch things and look at things and wipe the stove and make the bed and walk around more and look at things and walk around. Hey! guess what: it is time to go. Gee, time flies.
So, I put on my airplane light sweater, put my jacket in the knapsack, grabbed the suitcase, and opened the door. Into the hall and lock the door and go to the elevator. Downstairs with lots of time to leave. But, there in the office was Vivian, who called out, "Richard, thanks for giving us the monthly maintenance check. When are you leaving?" She stood up from her desk and walked into the lobby. What did she think: I had the suitcase and the backpack. "Are you going now? How are you getting to the airport? Did you call a taxi?" "No," I answered, "I am taking Bus 37 at the corner. It goes directly to the airport and only takes 20 minutes." She smiled, "You are such an adventurer. Imagine that. Taking the bus to the airport." I told her, "I have the Golden Passport which allows me to travel FREE on all public transportation." "Imagine that," she said, smiling more. "Taking the bus just like the....." She didn't finish but I knew where she was going. "Just like the common people." I said goodbye and walked down the block to the corner to wait for the bus. It was HOT and very sunny. I stood in the shade of the bus stop shelter along with the "common people" and waited. Bus 37 came in 10 minutes and off we went.
25 minutes later I was at the Miami Airport Bus stop and it was only about 3:45. Boarding was supposed to be at 5:25 so I had plenty of time, right? Except that the Delta departure desks are at the VERY far end of the airport, far from the bus stop. Nothing to do but shlep on and make the hike. It was only about 15 minutes to the gate and I walked in to find a typically LONG line at the security check. I got in line and was there for ten minutes before I remembered that the carry-on was going to be checked in as baggage. I quickly left the line and dashed to the Delta check in. Whew! Bag gone, back to the security line. Now it was 4:30. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Give passport, boarding card to the desk, get the okay and go to the X-ray. Off shoes, off belt, off sweater, wallet and phone in the backpack and wait for the lady in front to go through. EXCEPT this was a lady who had a huge necklace, a watch, a sweater-jacket, high heeled shoes AND a purse AND a shopping bag AND another bag. She went slowly, commenting in Spanish constantly to the guard. We all waited. And waited. Finally I was through and dressed and ready to relax. It was now a bit after 5 and I still had to walk to the gate. You wouldn't believe it, but I got the gate with only a couple of minutes to spare before boarding. Incredible and the trip hadn't begun yet.