Giving a Smile Even When You Don’t Feel Like It

Air travel today is downright painful . . . and always an adventure. It begins with having to practically undress and walk through the total body scanner. Then they torture you by packing you into seats like sardines and then find the bumpiest altitude so that you can’t get up, can’t read and can’t eat. The physical abuse is one thing but the emotional toll of delays are even more stressful. There is the constant gnawing of “Will I make the next flight or be stranded in some forlorn place short of my destination.”

This morning, I got up at 3 a.m. to catch a 5:15 a.m. flight and guess what? It was delayed. First for only 25 minutes, then I was told one hour. With a three-hour layover before the second leg, I wasn’t too worried about my connection . . . yet. Then the delay stretched to 3 hours. Watching people in various stages of disappointment, fatigue and anger, I sensed that the airport personnel were not feeling a lot of love. They needed help.

Sometimes I too am frustrated by delays. When they say it is a ground delay—meaning no planes are allowed to take off or land at the same time—and I am watching out the window as one after another swoosh off into the wild blue yonder, I get a little bit ticked. I do give the airlines some slack though and am more lenient when it has to do with mechanical issues.

Today’s delay was because of a “bird strike”. It seems that when the plane arrived late last night, a bird met its fate but not without leaving a mark. I don’t know if it was the Maytag repairman or who they called to come inspect the plane, but they must have lost their way getting to the airport. Hence, 3 hours and counting.

More and more passengers stormed up to the ticket counter. During a slight break in the action, I politely approached the ticket agent to inquire about my connection. The first words out of his mouth were, “It’s not my fault.” I assured him that I understood and that I just wanted to increase my chances of making my final destination.

Yes, they needed help, something to lighten up the tense atmosphere. So I reached into my pocketbook and produced my gift for today—a smile on a stick. These half-mask props with a big fat smile are fun to share with people who need a break. I carry a few for situations just like this. The ticket agents enjoyed passing it around and laughing it up. Some of the disgruntled passengers even allowed the edges of their mouths to turn up ever so slightly. I probably need to give out more smiles as the day wears on—matter of fact, it helps me to have one myself.

In giving and smiling,

Robin