As I tried falling asleep the night before my 6 a.m. flight to Newport News, Va., my mind wandered.
I thought about how I would sleep on the first flight to Atlanta, then maybe get some coffee during my layover and stay awake on the second leg of the trip.
Then I stopped myself. I only had a carry on bag, and it was a rolling suitcase. And in case you haven’t connected the dots like I obviously didn’t when I packed, that requires the use of my one and only hand. How could I possibly carry coffee and my luggage at the same time? Or carry anything in addition to my suitcase?
I was a little upset with myself after I realized this because it should have been obvious to me. I guess it shows even I can forget sometimes.
There was no time to repack in a different bag before my flight, so I had to adjust. I thought to myself before I drifted to sleep, “Oh well, you just won’t get coffee.”
But when I landed in Atlanta the next morning, I really wanted coffee. I compromised with myself — I’ll scope out my gate first and see how far away a coffee place is from there. If it’s really close, then I’ll do it. If it’s far, then I’m out of luck. I really didn’t feel like having coffee spilled on my clothes.
This might all seem a little melodramatic, but it’s situations like this that I deal with on a regular basis. How do I adapt to accomplish something with one hand that would be a relatively easy task for someone with two hands?
After a quick ride on the “plane train” I found my next gate, and a little coffee shop was nearby. Perfect, I thought. I ordered my hazelnut mocha and very, very carefully secured the cup in my left arm and proceeded to walk slowly.
I let out a sigh of relief when I reached the seating area without spilling a drop, but then almost immediately, I found out that the airport changed the gate during my 15 minute absence.
My mind immediately assumed the worst. What if I had to trek across the airport to another terminal? I would end up with coffee all over myself. Do I just drink it quickly?
Luckily, my worries were all for naught. It had been moved about two gates away — not two terminals as I had feared — and it was actually even closer to the coffee shop. Go figure.
The moral of this story is, when I traveled about a month later to Seattle, I took a duffle bag that I could throw on my shoulder. Navigating airports is much easier with my hand free.
Lindsey Erdody 