I hate Logan

Tuesday, 11:14 pm

By Kate

Apr

11

2006

Ye Gods, they went and changed the signs at Logan again. I was there. Right in Logan. But I took a zig when I shoulda taken a zag. Suddenly I was whooshed right out of the airport and into the Sumner tunnel. Crap. So I kept going and finally landed in Boston by the Schrafft Center. When I stopped at a red light there was a taxi driver next to me. I motioned for him to roll down his window and asked him which direction I should go to get closer to the airport. His English was about as good as my Creole, so he pointed and I figured out a way to turn around. Basically a U-Turn in the middle of the street. Finally saw a sign for Revere Beach and turned there. Somewhere in Revere I stopped at a little take out restaurant. The guys on duty said I was really close. But instead of going back to the traffic circle, I should take the short cut and one drew me a map. Just go to the end of the longish street, turn right, go a half mile, and turn left onto 1A under the bridge. Excellent directions.

Suddenly I was back at the airport. And did the same damned thing again. But this time, I didn’t end up exiting the airport. A sheer bit of dumb luck and I found myself at the right arrival terminal rather than the departure terminal. In all, it only took me two hours and I was a half an hour late. But, it all worked out in the end.

I hate Logan.

To the airport

Tuesday, 6:39 pm

By Kate

Apr

11

2006

Awaiting the phone call from the lad to tell me what flight he’s arriving on tonight, the phone rang and I answered it.

Him: Hello, Mrs. Alletto?
Me: Noo…
Him: Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. I must have the wrong number, but I’m sure you can still help me. I work directly with the Fraternal Order of Police-
Me: Click.

I wonder how many Mrs. Allettos he’s called today.

In any event…

I’m still awaiting the phone call with the airline and flight number so that I may swoop into Logan and pick the lad up tonight. Looking forward to homicidal taxi drivers and bus drivers all converging from different directions, switching lanes at 70 miles an hour. But I’m getting pretty good at surviving it.

The lad did mention—when he briefly called earlier to tell me he’d call later—that Lafayette College is his new favorite place on earth.

Oh nuts ... he just called to say they missed their flight. He will be very, very late. Well, maybe there won’t be as many taxi drivers late, late tonight.