Twin Cities

I booked my flight originally with a 45-minute layover, but after all of the weather madness of this week, I settled on the later connecting flight, figuring we’d surely be late getting out of Salt Lake, and we’d get stuck in snow and have trouble landing anyway, so the long layover was not such a bad choice. This decision for cushion time may have been further influenced by the fact that I’ve only been through the Twin Cities Airport one other time in my life—on my disastrous flight out to Michigan when I was 12.

I was technically old enough to fly on my own, but at the airport that morning Dad had convinced the gate attendant to give me a special child sticker to make sure I got escorted around at my connections. Which ended up being a really good thing, because things got complicated. The flight started out okay enough. We may have been a little late getting off the ground, but a lot of flights are. But when we were ready to arrive at the MSP airport, we could not get a slot to land, so we spent about an hour circling around the airport instead. Yes, only an hour circling. Not so bad, right? Would have been okay if at the end of the hour we got clearance to land. Nope. We ran out of fuel. So we were then flying to another city, I don’t remember where exactly, but I’m thinking it was somewhere in Illinois or Ohio, I could look it up for sure. Wherever it was, it was at least another hour of flying. There we landed at their airport and waited for two hours to refuel. Because this was not a scheduled stop, we were not allowed to exit the plane. So we all sat in our seats for an extra two hours with the plane on the ground. Then we waited for an open runway spot, returned to Minnesota, and this time got clearance to land. Yay.

We make it to Minneapolis, and boy is that kid sticker going to come in handy, because I’ve completely missed my connecting flight, and a 12-year-old (or at least ME as a 12-year-old) most definitely does not know how to handle being stuck in a strange city without a connecting flight. So they take me up to a little holding area, complete with video games and colorful walls, but there are LOTS of kids in there, so all toys are already claimed. I think I tried to strike up a conversation with another girl in the midst of all the madness. In the meantime, a man with a walkie-talkie and airport name badge comes in ready to escort somebody to their flight. I know they’ve rebooked me on another flight, but I don’t know when it’s leaving or where I am going at all, so I am tres grateful to have an escort with me. At first I don’t hear him over the roar of all the children (who were almost all so much younger than me and totally juvenile, I mean, I COULD HAVE travelled without the child sticker if I wanted to; I was old enough), but my ears perk up when he says “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to pronounce your name.” That’s like the universal calling card of the Agrelii. So I grab my bags and jump up to be escorted to my flight. We are walking across the MASSIVE airport (seriously though), and I am suddenly hearing my name coming over his walkie-talkie. “Camber Agrelius is missing from the children’s room. Does anyone have a location on her?” He’s super focused on getting me to my gate on time, not listening especially closely. Luckily I pay way too much attention, so I heard the message. So I said, “Excuse me, I’m Camber.” He smiles and says, “Oh, I’m Eric.” We do not stop walking. Maybe it crossed my mind to say something else, I’m not really sure, but either way we got to the gate, and he says, "Have fun in Oklahoma City.” I said, “I’m going to Michigan.” He looks befuddled and stares at the ticket a moment. “You’re Jennifer, right?” “No. I am Camber. They’ve been saying my name on your walkie-talkie.” Then we started walking REALLY fast. At some point we met up with Jennifer and Eric took her and a different escort took me, and I think Eric was relieved to not have to see me anymore, because no one wants to feel sheepish in front of a 12-year-old. But I think Eric did. But from there I got on a flight, got to skip my second connection and go directly to Grand Rapids, and most exciting of all, because this flight was on a different plane model, the seat number I’d been assigned on the previous flight was in the first class cabin on this plane, so I spent 45 minutes in first class bliss. Looking back, I’m thinking they were surely aware that I wasn’t supposed to be up there, but letting that slide was probably a lot cheaper of an option than me filing a well-deserved complaint. (Like I knew that was on option when I was 12.) So they let me end that hideous day on a high, feeling like I really pulled one over on them—45 minutes in first class! And that is my experience with the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport.

And here I am again. Of course everything went smoothly out of Salt Lake and we arrived 10 minutes early, so I’m here for 3 hours and change, trying to resist buying treats for the sake of my health and my wallet. (Though I think I’m about 45 minutes short of exhausting my will-power; 45 minutes seems to be a good rule of thumb for me in Minnesota.) To occupy myself I rode the airport tram from one end of C Terminal to the other, not because it was far, but because who doesn’t want a free tram ride? And then I made a visit to the airport mall. Yes, this airport has its own mall. I was appalled to realize that all these Viking fans are going around in life dressed in LAKER COLORS. My eyes are assaulted with purple and gold at every angle; it does not do anything to help redeem the Twin Cities in my book. Now it’s time to go see if there’s free wifi anywhere in this place, because if I am not going to spend $2 on a bagel, I am definitely not going to spend $9.95 just to connect to the internet and post on my blog! What airport doesn’t have free wifi?

P.S. It’s fun to be here :)