After we got to JFK and after I tweeted my Josh sighting; I was so busy obsessing over my auto correct typo that I made a mistake in counting my change from the tip I gave the skycap and instead of five dollars, he got a $15 tip. I didn't realize it though until we settled down and I recounted. Naturally I panicked. I had Ahmed stay with our luggage while I took Hamza to track him down. Luckily he wasn't far. I told him that he had given me the correct change and I had mistakenly given him back ten extra dollars. Without hesitation he reached into his pocket and pulled out a giant wad of money and asked if I wanted fifteen back. I said no, just the ten. As I walked away I thought of how I should have taken the $15. Clearly he knew I had given him $10 extra by mistake and was happy to take it.. I let it slide. He had been nice enough to unload our luggage at the front of what would be the line to the ticket counter once the Royal Jordanian attendants got there. Which I liked, 'cause the only thing I love more than a proper cue is being at the front of one. Hamza kept asking me questions about what had just happened and I couldn't focus on a good answer because I kept thinking about how the mix up might be some kind of foreshadowing for something else.
We had at least 3 hours till check-in would start, and about 4 till we boarded our flight to Jordan. I told the boys that we would eat once we went through security, and about 30 questions from Hamza followed. Could we eat here? Could we eat there? Could we eat this or that there? How much time till we ate? How much time was that? What should he count to? Why couldn't we eat now? Where were the restaurants? Why couldn't he see the restaurants? Etc.. I told them we would get drinks until it was time to check in. I inquired about drinks which were downstairs. Ahmed spotted two abandoned luggage trolleys which meant $10 extra. Solid! We loaded up and I hated leaving our spot but nothing would be worse than being in the line with thirsty nagging children. Two pops and a large bottle of water cost me $15; but let's be strait, when your traveling money somehow takes on a different value and you end up paying more for things you wouldn't normally and for some reason it doesn't bother you. And I never buy pop for the kids at home, but somehow it was ok. And Hamza had negotiated Mc Donald's into his future, which we also usually never go eat.. at least not in The States. Egypt Mc Donald's is another story.
When we got back upstairs there was only one other guy in the area, but he had all his luggage lined up on the wall and not in the line which made me really happy. Obviously he had not thought to get in the line. We went back to our spot and camped out on the floor. I spread out Ayah's blanket which she didn't stay on and put toys out for her which she ignored and fired up a movie on Netflix for the boys. About forty minutes later, another woman showed up. A skycap was also helping her and they were in deep conversation. He put her bags on the scale one at a time while they talked. Then he walked her carry-on over to a sign that sat in the middle of the floor, which divided one airline checking area from the other. At the bottom of the medal frame was box into which he tried to shove her clearly oversized duffle bag. It wouldn't fit. They talked some more, then she disappeared for a while.
By the time the ticketing crew started to show up, the line was pretty full. We had packed up our little camp and the carts were ready to go. I put Ahmed in charge of one and I had the other. By this time the boy's had a full on sugar high from the pop and fruit snacks I'd packed. I kept having to tell Ahmed to get his cart which instead of manning he had left to the slide while he spared with his brother. I was busy telling them to stop when a man walked up and proceeded to stand in what was a place off to the side of me which was both disturbing and alarming. Disturbing because this guy was obviously in a spot that had no particular purpose. Why was he there? Alarming because the position he had taken eerily resembled that of a person who wanted to cut in front of me in line. My line! He was obviously Obviously standing there to see if he could get away with it. Having lived in the Middle East, I knew alllll too well how to handle this. But I never ever thought I'd have to deal with it here! This might as well have been New York, Egypt. So, as Ioud as I could without sounding crazy, I said: "Excuse Me! Are you looking for the line?" He looked, then said, "Oh no, it's ok. They are going to open alllll these lines up." To which I said: "Yes I know, and then I'll be first followed by this gentlemen and then her, and so on." He walked away. The girl who was one person behind me who looked to be of Arab descent said "Good! Don't let him cut you. I hate when men do that." I wanted to say I hated when women did it too, but I didn't. I smiled and we made small talk. She was traveling on business. I recognized her as the woman with the oversized carry-on. She talked about how she traveled to Amman a lot on business. She kept making reference to all the pushy and overbearing men she had to encounter as an occupational hazard. I thought it was extremely cliche and extremely annoying.
When the lines finally opened and I went to check in, one of my fears for this trip was realized. Ayah, (whom I was told by three different Cheapoair service representatives over the phone could be added to my ticket at check in for 10% of my ticket price) could only be added at 10% of the current valued ticket price. Was she kidding? I'd purchased my tickets six weeks ago at a crazy low price, who knew what a ticket today would run me? Then I found out exactly how much, which was not in the budget. I defaulted to du'ah. Hamza kept asking what was happening. Could we still go? What if we can't get Ayah a ticket? Would we have to live in NewYork? and 10 more worrisome questions like that. I reassured him that there is always a solution. I called mom, but hung up when I realized it was Sunday and banks were closed. I'd like to think I used my gypsy skills to negotiate a price I could afford, but in the end it was just Allah accepting my duah, and the Royal Jordanian ticket women accepting what I was able to give her. We checked our bags and made our way through security, tickets in hand.
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