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Air Travel during COVID

So I’ve been quiet for the last week or so. Is Zen becoming a Zen Monk? Not likely. Have you read the fine print on masturbation for monks lately? Totally unreasonable. Anyhoo. Instead, I have been travelling during COVID. Now that I survived I can share my experience with you my dear readers.

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Let’s be honesty, air travel is hairy at the best of times. To fully appreciate it and be grateful I read the book “Wright Brothers” before I flew. The gratitude quickly dissipated when I found out the airport parking was up by a dollar per day and they requires my keys. Not a great start.

When we got to the terminal Toby had a panic attack because she thought it was the wrong one. Turns out we just have to take the elevator up two levels. Okay, so far so good.

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The check in agent was ancient because she had seniority. The young and pretty ones are on CERP. She took her sweet time checking our bags and didn’t bother checking our identity. We were masked anyway.

Pearson International Airport was like a ghost town. Only some shops are kept open. Everyone is required to wear a mask at all times. Large sections of the place is closed off and all drinking fountains are off limits. They held a heat gun to my daughter’s forehead and I saw her face glow green and a machine beeped. Have to explain this one when she is older and having nightmares about alien abductions. Onward and upward.

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Once we are onboard it was actually nice. We had a lot of room because of the 2 meters separation policy. Overhead storage was plenty. Mabel got to meet the captain and his co-pilot. They assured me that they know what they are doing but weren’t wearing masks, so how smart can they be? Or may be they know something we don’t.

In place of a hot meal on a long flight we were handed a junior scout survival kit. A mask, a pair of gloves, a bottle of water and some sanitizer. Instead of going to British Columbia I feel like I am being sent off to a Martian toilet in the Orange Light District. A couple of mysterious pills and I am good to go. Who knew something so simple and cheap can save me from agonizing pain and certain death. I thank thee O stewardess angels from upon high.

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Some travellers, mostly asians were wearing full on HAZMAT suits and face goggles. When I see them tighten their hoodie strings around their tiny eye holes I thought to myself: “Wow, Yellow Lives Matter too.” I am so onboard with that.

When we transferred in YVZ airport they didn’t have locker service so we had to drag our carry on luggage with us to Yaletown just to get a decent meal and drink. While walking along the sea wall my little family laid on the green grass and I saw a seal. The $17.25 Skytrain pass was so worth it.

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On our final leg of the trip I was walking out of the arrival gate. Instead of a crowd full of expectant families or balloons or flowers or handwritten cardboard signs saying “Mr. Watson GE Mississauga” or big banners saying “Welcome home mommy, we missed you!” or big embraces of uncles we haven’t seen in years or passionate kisses of lovers separated by months of apprenticeship in Poland or old people holding hands and holding back tears or young cousins meeting for the first time feeling awkward attractions or fathers surprised by how much his kids have grown or wives seeing their husbands and realize they are still in love after all those years.

Instead of all that, I was greeted by a floor cleaning robot.

The robot mindlessly roamed the empty hall and blinked away. I froze for a moment, holding my mobile wallet app, wearing my mask, wondering if I should make way for it or is it smart enough to not trample me to death. That would probably mean more clean up. But Hey, job security right? Make no mistake my friends, The Future is already here.

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2 Comments »

  1. Your funniest post yet.
    “They assured me that they knew what they were doing, but weren’t wearing masks, so how smart can they be?”
    AND
    “Yellow lives matter too.”
    Had me laughing a lot.
    Glad you are back with us.
    Will see you at your going awa…, I mean garage sale bbq.
    Chow.
    B

    Liked by 1 person

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