Previously...
Before I continue with this series, let me just clarify something that I didn't make very well in the last post.
Firstly, the guy who approached me was dressed in official looking clothing. I'm not familiar with how the police dress in the USA (and I'm not going to automatically assume that everything I see on TV is true), and given that I saw another policeman not so long afterwards, their getup was pretty similar. Also, he gave me a receipt for the LAPD. It's still highly likely that he was just a really intelligent con artist who had just researched what the Los Angeles Police Department wear, and faked some receipts, but even so, it was a pretty convincing act - and I guess I was sucked in. Just as well all I lost was $10NZ.
But anyways, that's all done.
During my time in line through security, baggage claim and customs, I had been updating my beautiful friend Kada on my progress. She was completely astonished when I called her to tell her that Well Whaddya Know I Cleared Through LAX In Less Than Half The Expected Time. She was fully intending on having a shower and a nap while waiting for me to get through the airport bureaucracy, though my Speedy Gonzalez impersonation managed to thwart that plan (whoops!)
In New Zealand, it is currently not illegal to use cellphones while driving. It will be from the 1st of November, but currently, it isn't. In California, this is not the case - you cannot use a cellphone while driving unless you use a hands-free kit. Kada had only very recently bought a cellphone on my pending arrival to the country so that we could keep in touch in real time, so she was only just figuring it out. She called me while she was coming into the terminal where I was located to collect me, getting me to describe my surroundings and from that, trying to figure out where the hell I was.
She was in the outer lane, though needed to be in the inner lane, the one closest to the terminal. She managed to spot me, and very quickly switched lanes. Unfortunately, the person she happened to cut in front of was a cop, who as you can imagine, was none too impressed that not only he had been cut in front of , but the person who had done so, was talking on a cellphone while driving. Oh my!
So would you believe it, the first time that I saw Kada, she was exasperated at having being pulled over by a policeman - heck, I was standing there thinking, "Man... not even an hour in LA and there seems to be a LOT of interaction with the police!" Thankfully, the policeman gave her a warning, so she didn't have to pay a fine. It certainly would've been a quite awful start to my visit to the country if it'd resulted in handing money over to the police twice. And somehow, I don't think Kada would've been able to walk away with just $10NZD out of pocket had the cop handed out a fine. O_O
The drive from the airport to Kada's house was full of novelties. Firstly, I was stunned by the number of streets that were Boulevards. Yes, I am being serious. Back home, the only Boulevard I was familiar with was Green Day's one Of Broken Dreams. Other things that blew my mind was seeing fractions on distance signs... exits on the freeway being 3 and a quarter miles away, as opposed to 3.25 miles away. OMG HUGE DIFFERENCES, PEOPLE!!! *faint*
I must say this... Americans, while I love you, I was quite thankful and fortunate that my first adventures in the U S Of A were alongside an Australian. Kada was understanding at my OMG YOU'RE ABOUT TO TURN INTO THE PATH OF THAT ONCOMING CAR IN THE LEFT LANE hyperventilalicious panic attacks at every right turn that she made in her car. She giggled knowingly every time I cringed and braced myself and squealed like a 6 year old. Oh man!
Kada took me to her humble abode, a quaint apartment, with a courtyard which reminded me a lot of crime movies I'd seen on TV (oh man Kada I'm so sorry, it really DID remind me of crime movies I'd seen on TV where the bad guys have their hideouts and then make a hasty getaway!), and when we were in her apartment, I handed to her a gift which I'd brought from Kiwiland. When I had bought the items for Kiddlywink's virtual baby shower, I had fully intended to post it and for it to be truly virtual. In fact, that was what I had expected. It was so hard to believe that I was actually sitting in Kada's living room while she unwrapped the goodies that I had sent her. So. Very Awesome. I also had the chance to open the incredibly delectable bunch of goodies that she had bought me for my birthday; which was bottle upon bottle of Oh So Delicious spices - a gift which of course sends a foodie like me absolutely through the roof with delight. And the tub of mint hot chocolate, o.m.f.g. I wubs.
A quick shower... I spent less under running water than I did figuring out which tap was which and why there were so many knobs and levers and what on earth did they do, etc. If there's three things you want to do as soon as you're done with a long haul flight - it's shower, eat, and sleep. I was able to tick two off that list thanks to Kada; whereas if I didn't have her, it would've been a boring layover at Los Angeles Airport, oy vey.
Kada rustled up a fantabulicious salad and some spaghetti which I gobbled with gusto. I loved that salad so much that I wished I could've emptied out my suitcases and taken on 50 lbs of Kada Salad to my next destination. Or rather, I wish I could've folded up in a strategic manner and taken HER on to my next destination; but given that she was pregnant with Kiddlywink at the time, such great feats of magicianry (What? You don't think I'm capable of this?) were *probably* not the best idea.
We made a mad rush back to the airport, trying to find the terminal that I was departing from. Kada had suggested that the e-ticket I had should have the departing domestic terminal printed on it - it had the terminal printed for my return flight to Los Angeles, but not for my outgoing one, so it was a case of driving around the departure lane of the airport to try and find which terminal we were leaving from.
In Auckland, there are two terminals. The domestic, and international. They're two separate buildings, and are right next to each other. If you're being taken To The Airport, you drive in the same direction, and then 2 minutes before you drive up to the entrance, you're asked, "Domestic or International?" The fact that there was at least 6 terminals and they were airline related rather than destination related (and as I would find out later, even this wasn't particularly reliable) had me scratching my head a bit.
We were running quite close to the end of my check in time, so Kada and I saw an airport staff member sitting outside... probably on his break. We decided to ask him. Kada wound down the window and I leaned out. The man, sensing that I was going to ask him a question, got up and came towards us. I said, "Excuse me, do you know which terminal Frontier airlines is?" He said, "Huh?" and leaned in closer. Slightly louder, I said "Do you know which terminal Frontier airlines is?" And he directed us to Terminal 6. I thanked him and we drove off. Kada said, "You asked him the 'our' way."
The 'our' way? What is this 'our' way, you speak of? I didn't realise this, but in New Zealand and Australia, when we ask people for help, we are soft spoken, discrete, and only ask if we've been unable to Do It Ourselves. This way, is 'our' way. It wouldn't be long before I began experiencing the differences on a frequent basis. That man was wondering why the hell I was talking so damn quietly!
After a quick goodbye to Kada, knowing that we'd see each other again soon, I went to check in at the Frontier desk. Not knowing the protocol, I rocked on up to the counter and said, "Hi!" Without saying anything - and looking rather grumpy, I might add - the woman pointed to a cluster of kiosks that I'd walked past.
Now I know that I work in IT and am a computer geek and love it when The Hyooman Factor is taken out of a lot of daily interactions (a new supermarket has just opened near my gym and I love it how it has self-service check outs) I was scratching my head over the kiosks. Maybe it was interchangable terminology that was throwing me off, or the fact that I was just nervous that I wasn't going to get to the gate in time. The Grumpy Lady at the desk saw that I was struggling, and while she didn't say anything at all, she came over to help me. I was relieved and said, "I'm sorry! I'm from
I got checked in (though was a bit taken aback by the check in fee for luggage - that wasn't something I was expecting!), and headed over for my first encounter with American Departure Security.
Firstly, I had to strip naked.
...
Okay no I didn't have to strip naked. But heck, with the several layers I had on, certainly had my share of things to take off. And my shoes as well (omg serz?). I was nervous about the cellphones, the iPod, the camera, the keys and all other things I had with me that might set off the alarms. I was also nervous about the small bag of moisturisers and eucalyptus oil that Mummy Dearest had packed (in the small 50mL bottles that comply with airline regulations.
But no, none of those caused a problem.
Instead, it was the nummeriffic gifties that Kada gave me that was raising the eyebrows of the Los Angeles ground security crew. The woman looked at the container of Mint Hot Chocolate and said, "Is this liquid?"
I'm like, "Uh... no, it's powder. It's hot chocolate."
She looked at me skeptically and said, "Are you sure?"
I started feeling nervous. "Well... my friend bought it for me, I only got it 20 minutes ago. It looks like a normal tub of hot chocolate to me...?"
She still looked at me with a raised eyebrow, completely disbelieving. She took the jar, and began swabbing it. I thought OH HELLZ NO SHE CANNOT BE SERIOUS. Why would anyone POISON perfectly good hot chocolate with ZE DRUGZ?!
She put the swab into the drug detection machine, and it returned no trace of drugs, as expected. You know what I reckon? She was trying to find a way to steal my hot chocolate. Well Airport Lady, it's mine, you can't have any. *hiss*
Despite being rushed and concerned about not making the check in time for the flight, I did enough waiting around to board the plane - and I must admit, through the crackly microphones, I found it really difficult to understand what the announcers were saying with regards to Which Rows Are Now Currently Boarding. I would ask other passengers "Which rows are boarding now?", and firstly, they had trouble understanding me, and once they finally understood me, I had trouble understanding them. Should've just spoken French and be done with it! Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? (Uh... maybe not such a good idea.)
Phase 1 of my inbound journey was complete. Phase 2 was about to begin, and in grand style...!
To be continued...
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