No Pressure!

 

Ended up getting to the airport a little on the early side,  so we broke with protocol and each had a cup of coffee and a croissant.   Didn’t quite have to take out a mortgage,  but it was of course just slightly more expensive than most other places.   I guess I don’t get out much.  Actually,  I have very little desire to “get out” much.  Just the same, €7,20 for two coffees,  as tasty as they were?   Well,  it’s the airport.

Surprisingly,  the croissants were only one Euro each.  Whatever.

The flight was reasonably on time I guess.  I sort of start to lose track of time after a little while.   It’s not always easy to figure out just exactly which flight is being represented as passengers come through the point of no return.   Of course,  all their luggage is going to have a “Vienna”  tag on it,  so that’s no help.

Of course,  having the attention span of a gnat,  I sometimes start to look around and people watch.  Which means I do sometimes miss the person coming in.  Poor form I realise.  Can’t be helped.

 

Travelling Companion got a good taste of what it’s like to stand there waiting for someone to emerge,  and even made mention of it at one point.  Yup,  it can be a bit of a drag.   The reward is worth it though.

 

 

On the way out to the airport,  there was a bit of a back-up on the highway in the opposite direction,  and I was hoping beyond hope that it was only a rush hour issue.   Turns out it was,   since our return trip wasn’t until around 9:30 or so.

The tricky bit it seemed was getting out of the stupid parking lot!   I’ve never had this issue before,  but for some reason there was a *bit* of a line up of cars trying to get out.  It’s an automatic arrangement,  where you pay for your time at a machine,  and then take your paid ticket with you to the exit,  where you feed the ticket in the slot,  the bar goes up,  and off you go.

Seems there was a problem.

 

Now,  I don’t have a picture of the final couple minutes,  since I was kinda busy.   The poor bugger in front of me had to back up,  since it spat his ticket out,  so that was a bit of a little dance we had to do with our cars,  and then by the time we got up there,  it was telling me I had to go back to the “Kassa”.   

Not on your life. 

And I know Travelling Companion gets a little embarrassed when I get like this,  but I have a very low tolerance for stupid machines that don’t work.   When the guy in front of me had his ticket come back out at him,  he no doubt got the message that he had to go back to the cash as well,  which is why he had to back up.  Hence the car jockeying.

Well,  it turns out that we had all been sitting there so long that everyone was going to have to return to the ticket machine to pay for the additional time.  So you make me wait far too long,  and then you expect me to pay for it?   

Again,  not on your life.

 

There was a bit of “playground voice”  on my part,  which is just a notch below yelling.   The reply from the faceless voice at the other end was that I was giving him “too much pressure”.  (I guess he was trying to find the magic button?)   I just said,  “Hey, no pressure,  just lift the bar so we can get out”.    I tersely explained to him that I had paid my nine Euros,  and it was time to leave.  

Even if the ticket machine hadn’t been behind us by something like 20 car lengths,  there was no chance I was going back there. 

The bar went up,  we left.   Not sure what happened to all the cars behind us,  as they had been sitting there as long as us,  but I would imagine that once they witness the crazy foreign guy get his way,  they might have tried the same tactic.   We’ll never know.

 

So by this point in the day, Daughter Number Two has had a bit of a nap,  and we’ve been out and about.   I’ll catch up on that tomorrow.   The pictures are still on the camera.  I’m not only hungry,  but there’s a beer in the fridge calling to me.

 

Have a pleasant evening,  and thanks for coming ‘round.

 

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