Flying Solo: Airports Without Your Other Half

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Flying Solo

I’ve gotten spoiled the past year. Every time I’ve traveled longer than a 90 minute flight, I’ve been with Tom. This past weekend I flew to Montana for a family reunion solo as Tom had school projects going on so wasn’t able to come with me. For years prior to this I’ve always flown by myself. I’ve been to Europe several times flying on my own, I’ve taken red eyes home to Minnesota, suffered seven hour layovers waiting to get to Montana, and fought for elbow room when stuck in middle seats between two strangers. And I’ve always handled flying solo just fine.

This past weekend, though, I realized how nice it is to travel with a companion. I even had exit row seats on 3 out of my 4 flights and I still for some reason missed traveling with Tom (maybe I just love him. Hmmm….)

Here is what I missed the most about flying solo without my sweetie.

Shoulder Snooze-fest: I had window seats on each leg of my flight, but let me tell you – sleeping on a hard wall is NOT the same as sleeping on Tom’s shoulder. I can always burrow in juuuust right and am out for the count. At the end of the flight he usually tells me I took up all the room, similar to at home in bed, but hey, the way I see it he’s getting to watch a movie while the love of his life is getting much needed beauty rest.

Tom guarding our bags while I go use the restroom.

Bathroom Maneuvering: When I travel with Tom, I always leave my carry-on and often my purse with him when I go to use the bathroom. When we first started traveling, he couldn’t understand why I couldn’t go the bathroom with these items. I explained to him I could lug them in with me, but as a girl it’s really annoying because you have this small stall you have to maneuver your carry-on suitcase into without brushing it against the toilet and then you have to hang up your purse, except too often the hooks are broken off so then you have to try to balance your purse on your shoulder while squatting over the toilet and…by this point he just accepted he would always be watching my bags in airports while I go to the bathroom. The same goes for being on the plane as I read an article once saying not to leave your purse at your seat while using the plane lavatory so I always bring it with me if Tom’s not seated next to me to watch it. This most recent trip there was no Tom to do this so I had to balance all my bags in my tiny cell of a bathroom stall while trying not to accidentally roll my suitcase in pee or drop my purse in the toilet.

Wino Whining: If my layover is longer than 90 minutes, you can usually find me at a bar enjoying a glass of wine (or a beer if for some reason the airport doesn’t have a good wine bar which is always cause for concern for the airport’s well-being). Drinking by oneself definitely helps to pass the time, but it’s way more fun splitting a bottle of wine with someone, instead of ordering a glass and then feeling like a huge wino when you order another one.

Outlet Offense: As I was sitting on my layover enjoying my glass of wine (and getting ready to order another one) a very nice man came up and asked if I’d mind if he plugged in his phone in the outlet under my table as he was at one of the high middle tables in the wine bar, which didn’t have outlets. Uh, what? My table had an outlet? As he asked this, I was typing away on my laptop and my phone was sitting next to me with 19% battery left and I was disciplining myself not to use it so it had enough power to call Tom once I landed (just in case he was late to pick me up). Plus, I needed power in order to access my mobile boarding pass. I was pretty sure I was good, but I was cutting it close power-wise. And I had been sitting right next to an outlet – my knee was touching it – and I didn’t even realize it. I felt bad telling this guy he couldn’t use something I didn’t even know existed 30 seconds earlier so I graciously let him plug in his phone and then glared at the wire for it for the next hour, willing him to come back and get his phone so I could plug mine in (I mean, seriously, didn’t he want to check Facebook???). I blame this turn of events on Tom not coming with me, because he is for sure the type who would have searched for a plugin and found it, unlike me who just assumes they don’t exist apparently. Or I could have pawned Tom off on this guy’s question: “Oh, I’m sorry. My husband was just about to plug in his phone.” (You see, it’s always easier to blame not being helpful on someone else than yourself.) Another plus of traveling with Tom is that when we’re on the plane if one of my tech devices runs out of battery I can borrow one of his to entertain myself with.

Stair Workout: I am not a weakling…relatively speaking. I mean, I can do ten push-ups in a row without being on my knees. And I can totally carry my carry-on suitcase up a few staircases without passing out. So therefore I feel I can hold my own, especially when flying solo. However, Tom, being the gentleman he is, always carries my suitcase up and down stairs for me. He’ll have his is one hand and mine in the other and I always find it a bit swoon-worthy. He doesn’t do it try to be macho. He does it do be sweet. Because even though he knows I’m more than capable of carrying the suitcase up those stairs myself, he also knows I’m a bit clumsy and will probably end up pinching my finger or bruising my knee in the process out of utter lack of gracefulness. When he’s not with me, I have to lug it myself. I don’t have the patience for elevators and escalators sadly are not always around. Luckily, this time around when I had to go up the stairs after walking from the airplane into the terminal (no escalator and long line at the elevator) I managed to not injure myself.