License to Party

Jet on a beautiful day

A couple of weeks ago, I went to Atlanta to the RETech South conference. It was my first trip ever in a jet, as I metioned to everyone within earshot and beyond. Most everyone assumed that fear had kept me from flying until then, but that wasn’t it. The opportunity had never really presented itself.

The trip down was exhiliarating. I am sure that those that fly frequently- or even more than once-don’t have the same kid-waking-up-at-6-AM-on-Christmas feeling that I had, but everything was a rush. Lift-off was really incredible. I couldn’t help but wonder how the curve of that tiny wing was enough to lift all of those people off of the ground, and then- roar- we were in the air.

My only moment of mental hesitation in this whole process was when we were landing. Then those little niggling things come to the forefront- Is the runway really long enough? Was my pilot a good student? Was there a big party last night? But even the landing was completely uneventful.

So my second flight- the trip back- was something I was really looking forward to. I had a better idea about how the system worked, although I was tired and not really too happy about the layover in Chicago- which had seemed like such a good idea. See the country! that little voice said. That little voice had not been to a very exhausting conference and the attendant networking when it piped up with its cheery advice.

Anyway, I went into the airport. Got out my license and boarding pass, and entered the airport. Went to board the plane- looked down at my hand and said to myself, “Make sure you remember to put your license away before you drop it.” After that, my little voice apparently passed out, because I found myself in my seat with the plane about to take off- without my license. I explained my predicament, and they allowed me to go back out and check to see if I could find it.

No license.

I got home, got busy, and forgot about it pretty much. Yesterday, I got an envelope in the mail:

I almost threw it out because I can’t even get into Canada, I don’t think, because I don’t have a passport yet. But apparently my license could! It somehow flew out of the country, touched down, and managed to find its way back from the Aeroport International Jean-Lesage de Quebec.

Amazing. No one to thank- no individual signed the letter.

And I can’t figure out what it was doing for the week and a half it was gallivanting around Quebec- and how it even got there. Picked up by a stranger and turned in? Jammed in a crack of the jet and dropped on some runway? Did it lay there in some godforsaken corner covered by dust until the janitorial service found it?

Or my personal favorite: was it picked up by a minor in the hope of being able to convince the bartender that she really WAS une femme de certain age. If that was the case, I hope we had fun. It appears that I will never know- that little voice is of the opinion that what happens in Quebec stays in Quebec.

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