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Zippers and Lines by J. G. Fabiano Most agree that the everyday routines of our lives can get a bit tedious. The day in and day out systems of getting up in the morning and going to work can make one a bit lethargic but, when these routines are broken, one quickly understands how comforting these routines are. A few days ago I was forced to travel. All of my colleagues and friends were jealous that I was able to travel to the west coast and enjoy some California lifestyle. I, on the other hand, just wanted to be left alone to enjoy my summer on the beautiful beaches of York: this choice I did not have. It is easy to understand why people from Maine don't want to leave. Where else could one be frozen by sub-zero temperatures, gale force winds, black flies the size of small dogs, microscopic fleas that make you bleed, and of course the ever-exciting Down east humor? And all this happens on good days! I also don't like leaving my Debbie: she has been with me forever and I can count on one hand how many times we were apart. I guess I will have to use two hands now, and I simply don't like it. Very early in the morning, I found myself in my first line. I was attempting to check-in at Manchester airport. This particular line was immense. If I had to wait in line at Fenway Park for as long as I had to wait in line here my attendance watching a Red Sox game would not exist! The people in this particular line were totally devoid of any personality. I tried to start a conversation with some, but they just continued to stare straight-ahead hoping that I would simply go away. The only person that acknowledged that I existed was a little girl, who continuously stared at me. I tried to smile back and even said hello, but all this did was to have the little girl stare more intensely. I wonder if I had something spewing out of my mouth? My second line was waiting for a cup of coffee before my flight. This one wasn't as long but it still stole 20 minutes out of my life. When I was able to order, I again tried some friendly banter but all it did was force the attendant to give me a scornful glare. This brings up another problem as when one drinks coffee, one has a tendency to need to get rid of it. Normally this is not a problem. On an airplane this is always an experience, especially when everyone is watching the movie and the bathroom is directly in back of the screen. It is almost like telling everyone on the plane that you have to tinkle. If going to the lavatory is bad enough, leaving is even worse. When one walks from behind the screen, one has the feeling that everyone is once again staring at you. I felt like I should have told them what I did! My next line was soon after attempting to get off the plane. I had to wait in line to get from the airport to the motel and, you guessed it, another line was waiting for me at the motel. Throughout the next four days most of my time was waiting in lines. I had to wait in line for all of my meals, all of my conferences, my transportation to and from the convention center, and, of course, to use the bathroom. If you haven't figured this out yet I am not a big fan of the concept of waiting in lines! I started to wonder what people thought about, when they were waiting in lines. In fact, I started a game, in my mind, trying to figure it out. I assumed a rather large man who was across the aisle in another line must be thinking about his next meal. Behind him was a man who was carrying a bedroll. I assumed he was thinking about the pain in his back. A middle-aged woman, a few people in front of me, was probably thinking why she was not able to buy a first-class ticket and thus have to wait in a much smaller line. The older people and the children were probably thinking about absolutely nothing. They don't have to, because when one is that old or young it is not that important what you think. This concept is not coming from me: it is simply a reality. Most people were probably thinking about how much they hated waiting in lines. Another newly-discovered aggravation was the concept of the zipper. Most would have to wonder why something as harmless as a zipper could annoy anyone. These same people have probably never attempted to figure out a new piece of luggage. This was the first time I realized that there were many different types of zippers. In fact, I discovered that zippers are made from different materials. There is the large metal zipper that is destined to take pieces of your skin from your hands and arms: the larger the zipper the bigger piece of body it takes from you. Then there is the plastic zipper that catches the smallest piece of your clothing, thus never to become zipped again. It also does a number on your clothes. I actually appreciated the many zippers on my suitcase, because they allowed me to pack different things, in different compartments. I couldn't believe how much stuff I could fit, in what I considered to be a small bag. The basic problem is that you have to unpack after you arrive at your destination. Everything seemed to disappear. Hell, I couldn't even figure out where the zippers were! After about an hour of zipping and unzipping I was able to unpack most of my stuff. I have yet to find my socks but I was in California where no one ever wore them anyway. O course I am now suffering through another entity I dislike, the blister. The mysterious luggage reminded me of the small magic trick I used to play with, in my past. The one that had you place a penny in a box and then turn it around, or wave it in the air, so that the penny would disappear. I was beginning to think that my wife was playing a joke on me by buying a magic piece of luggage. When I arrived at the convention center they gave me another bag that was loaded with zippers. It had at least 4 zippers in the front, with two to three inside compartments that were closed by zippers. I couldn't understand why anyone would need this many zippered compartments. After only an hour at the convention, I wished that I had more spaces to place the junk that they were burying me with! When I arrived back at my motel I tried to sort out the material they gave me. Of course, that meant that I had to find it. After an hour or so, I did find all the unnecessary garbage given to me during the day. What I couldn't find was the stuff that I desperately needed to continue my day. I was beginning to think that this new bag not only aggravated but it also ate some of my stuff! I am finally home, back to a place where there are few lines and even fewer zippers. The only zipper I have to put up with is the one on my pants. I once tried to buy some zipper-less pants but had a difficult moment in the men's room at the Boston Garden. I think I was involved with a line, back then, too. I am now able to get back to the routines of my daily life. In fact, I am looking forward to a time when I can again become lethargic and comfortable about a life I never want to change. The End
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