Puddle jumping in the Cooks October 2015 | Near disaster

If you were at Gate 142 at LAX on Sunday night you witnessed every traveler’s worst nightmare. Gate 142 is in the bowels of the international terminal, a hike down deserted hallways and stairwells from the commercial zone. It’s a dreary space: row upon row of black molded plastic airport chairs, industrial carpet, washrooms.  Travelers clutching pillows slouched alongside their carry-on.

Our flight was already boarding when panic struck. A pink rolling duffel was wheeled back from the tarmac and a brown-faced ANZ ground hostess was on the floor rifling through its contents. Another ANZ hostess was tossing items from a backpack. Margaret and I were seated on the floor, emptying a purse and my small overnight sac onto the dingy carpet. Meanwhile curious passengers looked on as they passed through the gate and on to busses headed for our plane, mindful that something unpleasant was transpiring on the floor. At some point, my boarding pass was taken from my hand. An agent was dispatched to security. As I collapsed, in total disarray and dismay on the floor, a hostess unzipped the sleeve from my laptop and pulled out my computer, reaching in to be sure it was empty.  And then, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, she produced my passport.

My passport is always in the same place: the passport holder that hangs around my neck. But somehow in the chaos of security, I went through screening with my boarding pass in my hand, and my passport in one of those buckets. How it then ended up inside my laptop sleeve is a mystery. A mindless act on my part as I retrieved my belongings perhaps. But I am grateful for two Air New Zealand hostesses who were determined to get me on that flight!