What kind of traveler are you? I know what type to traveler I would like to be. I just saw the traveler breeze through check in.

My travel preparations are complicated. First I worry about what to pack. Questions run through my brain like a ticker at the bottom of a cable news channel. How many days am I going to be away? What temperature will it be where I am going? Do I need a “good” outfit? What bag should I pack? I need to remember to take my lip-gloss out of my purse, leave some lights on, and feed and water the cat. Who should I ask to look in on the cat? Does anyone need to look in on him? Will he bite anyone who comes in? Will they sue me if he does? Does he have rabies or is he just that bad tempered? And this is all on the way to the airport.

Now that I am here I add a whole other layer to my worries. Do I have my ticket? What time is 21:10? Is it 8:10 or 9:10? Is today the 4th? What day is my flight for? What about the dog? Is this the time she goes crazy in the airport and runs away? Will she get in her crate? Will the crate make it through security? What about the time the screener found “chemicals” on it? What did that mean? Will they load her on the correct flight?

“Here is your ticket ma-am and the baggage handler is here to get your dog.”

I turn and there he is waiting for me to get the dog crate on the trolley and get the dog in it. This part goes well. I open the door and take off her leash and she climbs up into her crate. The crate door closes and the dog and I part. Now it is my turn to head off through security clearance, with the echo of the dog’s cries following me. Everyone within earshot turns and watches me walk away. They all know that I abandon my pet.

“May I see your boarding pass please?”

The traveler casually smiles at the security guard, puts down her soft leather carry-all, and gracefully juggles her belongings and pulls out her passport and boarding pass. She puts down here carry-on and it snakes its way through the x-ray machine.

“I am sorry ma-am, but you are not allowed to take liquids through this check point”

I would be wracked with guilt, but not the traveler. She reaches into her bag, pulls out the water bottle, opens the bottle, drinks the last of the water and then tosses the bottle into the recycling bin. I think I saw the security guard. The she gathers up her bags smiles at everyone and heads off towards her gate.

“Next”

“Please take off your boots ma-am”.

“Your belt as well.”

“Could you open the button on your pants please.”

“If you have a problem ma-am. We can step aside into a holding room and I can have a female screener come and search you.”

“Thank-you ma-am. I appreciate your cooperation.”

“Now we need to open your bag and do a swab test.”

“Thank-you ma-am. Enjoy your flight”

I can hear my flight being called at gate eighteen. With my boots under my arm, my belt looped around my neck, and my bag over my shoulder I run to the gate in my stocking feet. There is a lounge I pass on my way to my plane. I can see the traveler reading her novel drinking a glass of red wine. She looks up as I run by and I see her smile. There she is the traveler I want to be.