What of This Is?

My older one had a rough night.  A bit of drama with her boyfriend that woke the house at 4:00AM.  But by 5:00AM they were back on track and her trip up to Toronto for the day was still a go.  If it were up to my wife, we’d be driving her all the way to JFK today, but I suggested this otherwise rather adult like gal have a try with mass transit.  There’s a bus at 9:00AM. 

She seemed flustered by the challenge of finding public transportation from Port Authority, suggesting a bus to a subway somewhere.  I’ve taken the airport shuttle that is right there off Eighth Avenue for Newark a number of times and as I assumed there is one to JFK as well.  I get her an online ticket, just before she’s out the door and then the younger one and I drive her down to Trailways bus station on Main Street.  

After she gets her ticket, she and a bunch of other people line up for the bus at the end of the parking lot and the driver doesn’t park where he’s supposed to.  Everyone drags their luggage to the other side of the parking lot, and I notice that my daughter has basically cut in front of one or two older couples who’d been at the head of the line.  So have other people.  I wonder what of this is Chinese, what of this is New York and before very long she’s let them line up at the head of the line, justice has prevailed and I turn to check a message on my phone. 

She’s nearly on board before I remember to wave, and I feel ashamed at having almost missed that singular passage of time.  Later she writes from Manhattan that the next JFK shuttle won’t be for another hour and will get to the airport with only about an hour before her flight departs.  “Is that OK for an international flight?”  “No.  Not for an international flight.  Grab and Uber out to the airport.  And let me know when you get there safely.”

Saturday, 01/04/20