I'm not a big 'guardian angel' kind of person, but I think that happens with age. A woman in her thirties likely believes more in the healing powers of Oprah than some other-worldly presence. This week, however, I've changed my tune a bit. 'Cuz I saw me some angels.
Saturday evening, waiting in line to board my plane to CA, holding my ticket with my middle seat. Middle seats are never optimal, but considering I get up to pee every 20-25 minutes (not joking), this was not going to work. The attendant at the gate took a look at my tummy, probably seeing the pee welling up in my eyes, and said, 'Oh, no honey. Let me see what I can do.'
She gave me first row, bulkhead, aisle, with a promise not to put anyone in the middle seat. God, it's good to be pregnant sometimes.
The girl sitting in the window seat on my flight had her leg in a brace from a recent knee surgery. If there is one person gimpier than a six and a half month pregnant lady, it's a woman who's just repaired a torn ACL. A (gorgeous) guy about our age was helping her load her crutches into the bin and said, 'I'll be back later to check on you.'
Turns out this guy happens to be a masseuse. Who charges $250 an hour for massage. Who is in his last year of med school, specializing in acupuncture and sports therapy. When he saw my neighbor waiting to board the plane, he offered (FOR FREE) to massage her leg to bring the swelling down. Who does that?
He sat with us and chatted for awhile. He is married with kids, not creepy at all. He just wanted to help when he saw someone in pain. And when he got up to leave he turned to me and said, 'You're just about the cutest pregnant lady I've ever seen.' Yeah. Needed that.
Because I booked my flights using miles, I had limited options for flying home. The only flight I could get was going to take me from SF to Phoenix, Phoenix to Chicago, and Chicago to Pleasantville. This flight sucks if you're not pregnant, let alone dealing with an achy back and feet that won't stop falling asleep. I was hopeful I could pull the preggo card and work something out at check-in.
Let's just say that didn't happen-- at first. When I printed my three boarding passes and asked as sweetly as I could if there was anything possible that can be done, pretty please my baby thanks you, I was told, 'No. Sorry. Next time don't travel when you're pregnant.' (Yes, she really said that.)
I walked dejectedly to the gate and found another angel waiting for me. I prefaced with, 'I already got rejected downstairs, but...'
Within seconds, my boarding passes were ripped up in favor of a direct flight leaving in twenty minutes. 'I've had two kids,' the attendant said, 'and you are getting a direct flight home.' And yes, I had an aisle seat.
So a woman in her thirties sees angels, if she looks for them. This week mine came in the form of a few strangers, L, my family, my girls, and Gina at United.