Florida Man Should Not Have Been Allowed to Design an Airport
Ladies and gentlepersons, I know of a place more confusing than any local hospital in a major city. That place is the Orlando airport. Affectionately known as MCO, the Orlando airport is what happens when you give Florida man free reign to design a space intended to accommodate tens of thousands of weary travelers who don’t know where the heck they are.
I recently had the pleasure of driving my wife to the airport so that she could gleefully abandon me in favor of seven lovely grandchildren and their equally lovely parents. Now, I have lived in the greater Orlando area for more than a decade. I have been to the airport enough times to have a reasonable grasp of its various traffic flows. And yet, airport traffic still eludes me.
Just Follow the Line, Stupid
My pretense here is that the Orlando airport is more confusing than a hospital. To that end, a word about hospitals is in order. Actually, you’re about to get more than just a word. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
I was once in a rather prominent hospital, which is to say a hospital associated with a university whose only claim to fame was the hospital’s prestige – because its football team sucked, to make deliveries to five separate departments. I had never visited this particular hospital before so I made the mistake of going to the front desk to ask directions.
It went something like this:
Me: How do I find these five departments so I can make my deliveries?
Receptionist: There is a directory over there on the wall. Go study it.
Me: I’m not here to get one of your highly expensive college degrees. I don’t have time to study. I was hoping you could reach down to the deepest recesses of your cold, black heart to give me a little guidance.
Receptionist: Okay, fine. Walk through those double doors right over there. Then follow the blue line until it crosses the red line. Make a left at the red line and continue following it until you see a yellow line. Make sure you find the solid yellow line, not the dotted one. Then follow it until you pick up the green line.
Still the Receptionist: At this point, you will feel like you have been going in circles for the better part of the day. Perhaps you have, but that’s not my problem. Just keep following that green line until you pick up the chartreuse line – if you can even see chartreuse as a man. You’ll eventually end up nine blocks away. Don’t worry. There’s a sausage vendor at the end of the line. Pick me up an italian sausage with onions and grab something for yourself. You will have earned it.
Needless to say I spent a long time following lines to nowhere. I don’t know how I made my deliveries. Perhaps some bored orderly took pity on me as I wandered aimlessly around the hospital like an activist for any woke cause at a convention for people with working brains. Yet my experience at the hospital pales in comparison to every experience I have had at the Orlando airport.
Signs, Lines, and Painted Pavement
Despite struggling to find my way around the hospital, at least I was only following colored lines on the floor. That’s kids stuff compared to the Orlando airport. Apparently, the Florida man who dreamed up our designated aviation hub for the criminally insane decided to combine a mixture of signs, lines, and painted pavement to guide us weary travelers.
You have to find the right signs before you can look at the paint on the road. Meanwhile, painted lines allegedly guide you so that you know to be in the correct lane. All of this is thrown at you as you make your way around a circular roadway that is eerily reminiscent of Daytona International Speedway.
The big difference is that airport drivers drive a heck of a lot faster. They weave in and out, slam on the brakes at inopportune times, and then vanish from view by cutting down a side road you didn’t know existed.
My friends, Florida man should never again be allowed to design an airport. Getting from the entrance to the right terminal is an exercise in pure terror. If you survive long enough to make it inside the terminal, the lady from the hospital will be there to give you directions to your airline. Good luck with that.
