The happiest place on Earth turned out to be the happiest place on earth but getting there sucked ass from a gluten stand point. We did the surprise for the kids which was awesome and they both freaked out and were completely wild animals by the time we got to the airport. In general, I like airports, I used to be a flight attendant and I still like airports. I think they are these cool places where the energy just speaks for itself. What I recently realized though is that if you can not eat gluten, an airport is no longer the fun, go-to energetic hub bub it is for everyone else. It’s a small piece of hell where good people go to starve the day away. We, for some reason had to head through security right away, a theory I have never understood. If the plane isn’t even coming in for two hours, why the hell do I have to be there? It’s like waiting at a bus stop the night before you work, I don’t get it.
But anyway, we head through security and I figure, that there HAS to be something that I can eat on the other side of the mysterious glass wall. This wall is one of the best things about an airport, crossing this wall literally puts you into another country and unless you want to stay home, you can’t cross back…..ever. The glass wall separates the people going to cool places from the people going to Saskatoon (no offence I like Saskatoon but Disneyland is cooler) Crossing the glass wall puts you into a special boarding lounge, one that is on American soil and yet is a place where the vendors won’t take American money…again, a black hole of strangeness. But I was confident that if I was being forced to leave my own country three hours early and be trapped in the glass fishbowl of strangeness that there would be SOMETHING for my Celiac person to eat. I wasn’t expecting a gluten free bread pannini or homemade gluten free soup but I felt good about hunting down a bowl of fruit and some nuts. Not so my friends, not so. There is a
’s. Now I really miss Harvey ’s hamburgers, I do. I remember that I would have a Harvey’s hamburger once a year because you feel so shitty after eating it that you swear you are never going to eat another one but then you start craving one six months later and it takes you another six months to find the time to eat it. So I am thinking of the Harvey ’s hamburger and knowing that I could never have it when I google their gluten free options. Their website says I can have some sort of grilled chicken salad. Sweet, sounds prepackaged so I shouldn’t even have to have a conversation with the beleaguered American/ Canadian person working. The line up is HUGE at the Harvey ’s on the American side of the Harvey because of course everyone has to go there three hours before their flights and everyone is starving and everyone wants to eat and leave this stupid airport. Calgary Airport
I make Trev wait in line, (this is why I got married so I don’t have to wait in the shitty line up at airports). I am sitting with the kids who are beyond excited at this point. They really started to freak out at the airport because they figured out it was all for reals. I can’t decide if I am happy or disturbed that they were so suspicious until we actually checked in at the airport. They admitted that they thought Trev and I were going to turn around at some point and head back home with a “TRICKED YOU!” and a howl of laughter. What kind of fucking asshole would do that to a kid anyway? As odd as it seems, I kind of I like that we keep them on their toes, as therapy inducing as that might be. So anyway, Trev suddenly yells over the crowd that
’s are out of salads, out, none, nadda, nothing. I roll my eyes, and of course they offer no other suggestions, God forbid they trap us in the airport and be helpful. BUT I think brightly, there still has to be SOMETHING in this wasteland neutral zone of nothing. I had brought my little collection of granola and trail mix but I was saving those for an emergency later on in the day, not to be depleted ten minutes in! So I go trolling for something gluten free. I find the two following items. Harvey
They were disgusting, don’t write me and tell me that you actually like them or that your Mom eats them all the time or that you know the guy who makes them and he’s awesome, they suck. They are disgusting and if you think they taste good, you have no taste buds. The chip bag is actually totally full in this picture because I ate ONE chip. They had obviously been stored for months if not years so the chips were dry and yet soft which was an upsetting collaboration of textures which did not add to the complete lack of flavor. The peanut thing was ok, but stale as the last serving of popcorn after the late night movie. I don't think it was supposed to break my teeth like peanut brittle. It was all crappy and the worst is that I had to sit there and watch the kids and Trev dig into some
’s hamburgers. And Trev, because he loves me so much, does this little thing every time we get into a situation like this. He gets this revolted look on his face, shakes his head and says “If it makes you feel any better, this tastes awful.” Which helps and it doesn’t. On one hand it helps because I know he gives a crap that he feels bad for me and is trying to make me feel better. This is also a reason I got married, to have a constant make me feel better person following me around. On the other hand I want to slap the hamburger out of his hand and say “IT DOESN’T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER! THE WORST HAMBURGER IN THE WORLD IS STILL BETTER THAN THIS OLD STALE PIECE OF SHIT GLUTEN FREE CHIP!” But I don’t because, it would hurt his feelings and I generally try to avoid that and also because the American Airport police that live in Canada but work on American soil would get mad at me and possibly put on a rubber glove and take me out of the glass tank. Harvey
Next stop….The Hotel….Stay tuned