You Can't Go Back.

Nine days without a blog is way too long. As a matter of fact, I almost didn't remember my log in information. But, in my defense I was 4 days without viewing a computer monitor OR accessing the www. I was out of town. On business. Yes, I occasionally get to travel in my job. Like once every 3 years. And I go to the same place every time. Ohio. I was glad to be out of there before the earthquake hit.

Usually I travel through Minneapolis. I like the Minneapolis airport. Very well laid out, easy to navigate (still haven’t found the duty free in that airport, don’t even know if they have one) and a very friendly airport. And the fact that when I go through Minneapolis I get to go through customs in my home province, well, it’s just comforting, you know. Like, if they’re not going to let me in, not a problem, I can just go home.

This time I went through Toronto. And, well, I didn’t like it very much. At all. The only good thing going for the Toronto airport is that I did find the duty free. I was nervous about customs (don’t ask me why, I just was) but it all went fine. Except for the part where I wanted to go out and have a smoke and they wouldn’t let me. After I put my suitcase on the conveyor belt, to head off to the place where all good suitcases go and you risk the chance that you may never see your belongings again, I turned around to head back out through the doors I came in. And the conversation went something like this:

Guard: Ma’am? Where do you think you’re going?

Me: Me? Oh, I just wanted to go back out so I could step outside for a cigarette.

Guard: Sorry ma’am, you can’t do that

Me: I can’t? Why?

Guard: You’re in the United States now ma’am.

Me: So you’re telling me I can’t go out and have a smoke when I have 2 ½ hours until my next flight?

Guard: That’s right ma’am. You can’t leave the United States.

Me: Do they sell alcohol in the United States?

Guard: Yes ma’am, they do.

Me: Good, ‘cause I’m gonna need a couple of doubles.

And so began my Toronto experience.

You can see a variety of people in airports. Particularly after you’ve slammed back a couple of shots because, well, you’re in the United States and you can’t leave to have a smoke. I don’t know why, they just get more, uhmm, interesting. Take for example this.

The young girl, maybe 23ish, sitting in the boarding area, with a Laptop. A Blackberry. A Trio. And a cell phone. Now, I’m not sure if she was just showing the world how technical she was, that she could multi-task, that she was important. But to me, she just looked like she was showing off. Someone should tell her that she could probably get away with just one of those items, not all four. And that I would’ve been happy to take the laptop off her, well, lap.

Or the guy who was purchasing cigarettes. He was just a wee bit pissed off when he threw twenty five US dollars down on the counter and it wasn’t enough to pay for his two packs of smokes. The clerk did the conversion and the poor guy lost eight cents on every dollar. I guess they’re not used to having to pay more in Canada. He walked away cursing under his breath and shaking his head. I chuckled.

Or the chick in the bathroom. Whilst doing my business I hear this young voice talking loudly saying she was just heading to the plane and that she couldn’t wait to get there and that she was going to do some naughty things when she finally sees you. I come around the corner to see a blonde with hair to her waist, about 5’ 11”, thin as a rail with pants that were no doubt painted on, a shirt that had a vee-neck cut down to her navel, 4” stiletto boots and more bling that I have ever seen in my life. Oh, and make-up. She had on a ton of make-up. I think she saw me stop in my tracks, my jaw drop down to the ground as I just stood there, shocked. I then started to giggle. I mean really giggle. Almost laughing out loud giggling. She gave me the once over and with a toss of her bleach job, strutted out.

The Toronto airport wanted $8.99 for a ham and cheese sandwich on white bread, wrapped in cellophane with a pickle smooshed into one side. The airport charges $7.89 for a 22oz domestic draught beer. They charged me $5.99 for a burger, fries and a container of coleslaw. I had to put the mustard and ketchup on the burger. No relish. No cheese. They charge $2.29 for cheese. And no doubt it’s plastic cheese, not a nice aged cheddar or mozzarella.

With this years business trip behind me, and another one 3 years away, I can now concentrate on blogging.

I must say however, the Hilton I stayed at had the most comfortable pillows I’ve ever laid my head down on.

I should’ve brought the bigger suitcase.