The air conditioning brought my body temperature down a bit and the tissues in my purse helped to absorb the sweat that was dripping from my hairline. The thermometer read 75 degrees. I turned up the XM radio and continued to refresh the Delta application on my telephone for the most up to date flight information. Luckily, the flight was pushed back to 3:03 pm. That gave me an extra two whole minutes! But, the traffic was not as forgiving.
We inched along as the minutes ticked away.
I knew I was headed for terminal 3. As the road swerved into the airport I carefully read the signs, while driving as quickly and safely as possibly. I followed the signs for parking. The parking lot was for terminals 1, 2 and 3. This wasn't going to work for me. I need my car to be close. I need my car to be perfectly situated so that these passengers don't have to walk far. I wove up and down every aisle of the parking garage. I saw a woman with a suitcase walking towards her car. I sat in the ready position and put on my blinker. She unlocked the doors and put her jacket in the back seat. She then popped the trunk and took her sweet time loading a suitcase in. After she finally closed the trunk she look at me and shook her head. She wasn't leaving.
What?! Who is parked at an airport, puts a suitcase into the car and isn't leaving? I don't understand.
I didn't have time to question this woman or her sheer confusion on what happens at an airport, so I went upstairs. I skipped the second and third floor and went straight, well, in circles, up to the top level. I parked in an impressively close terminal 3 parking spot. I had my telephone, iPad and keys in hand, and I took off in a sprint. I know that in the last post I talked about sprinting, but I don't think I knew what sprinting in heels felt like until it was 3:01 pm and I was running down the stairs to greet the guests. (Oh, and do I need to remind you that I was wearing a pencil skirt and adorable- and high- peep toe heels?)
I ran across the three lanes of traffic, dodging between the cabs, and running against the instructions of the red hand. While I was stuck on the median, waiting for more cabs to whiz by a foreign couple asked me, "is dis dee way to zee terminal sree? Go down, no?" First of all, why do I look so approachable? Listen, people I'm super new to this place too! And secondly, I have no idea! I'm looking for "terminal sree" as well! So, I said, "Yup! This way!" The white walking man was on the screen, and I was running. There was a hill, there were more lanes of traffic to cross, but I was inside. I checked the screens, looking for the status of the flight. It said "At Gate." And next to that it said baggage claim E2. I looked to my right and saw baggage claim D2. I looked to my left and saw baggage claim D1. I looked behind me and saw a sign for baggage claim E with an arrow to the left that said (Terminal 2).
Expletive. Expletive. Expletive.
I didn't actually vocalize those words, but oh boy, I sure as heck thought them!
I took off running. Back out the doors, across the lanes of traffic and up the hill. I followed the sidewalk to the left, ignoring the blister that had formed on my third toe. When I got to the next 6 lanes of traffic to cross there were cabs and cars littering the crosswalk. The red hand said "no," but the traffic jam told me "yes." I wove between the yellow bumpers, honking horns, and swearing men, only having one near- fatal encounter before making it to the other side. I went up a hill and down a set of stairs. I crossed two more lanes of traffic before making it inside. I could almost hear the music playing as I saw the sign for baggage claim E2. I opened the iPad, and I assumed the position. The time was 3:08 pm, and I couldn't stop sweating.
I got my four passengers, and we headed outside. My perfect parking space was no longer perfect. So, we rode the elevator up, and I told my passengers to wait for me to pull the car around, and I took off running.
Everyone piled in and started grilling me about the big secret. They decided to say things and I could just say yes or no. The woman in the third row made an announcement. "Women preview new GMC Terrain Denali. It's the headline that a friend sent to me." The man in the passenger seat turned and looked at me accusingly, "is that why we are here? For a Terrain Denali?!"
I kept my cool. "Like I said earlier, I am not authorized to give you any information regarding this evening. I'm sorry."
Well, that was why they were there. I'm just glad I wasn't the one to ruin the surprise!
And there it is, the brand new GMC Terrain Denali.
I helped with breaking down the event, bringing guests back to the hotel, bringing wine back to the hotel, loading the cars into the truck, and making late night runs to the grocery store, but those are just minor details.
The cars. Inside of the truck. Headed back to Detroit.
My day ended at 10:30 pm.
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