Armed to the teeth with full lunch boxes, thermos coffee mugs, candy, charged phones and comfortable shoes, we walked into the departure lounge four hours before our flight took off. The desk to check in the suitcases only opened an hour and a half later. So this is how we did it: my girlfriend would already be in line with the kids for the security check and I would join later, after I checked the bags.
But sure enough, the check-in desk was already open and we could already lose our suitcases. A calm ocean of time stretched as far as the eye could see. With three and a half hours to go we walked towards the control. We passed a screen that said it would be another 30-45 minutes from that point. My girlfriend and I looked at each other triumphantly. We had defeated the system. And that during the autumn holidays.
A few minutes later we joined the queue. There was also a screen here, stating that it could take another 45-55 minutes. Could happen. There was a lot of movement in the line and after ten minutes we were at the bottom of the stairs leading to the security hall. We had to wait there for a few minutes. “Do we actually have priority?” I heard a low, lazy voice ask behind me. “No,” a woman’s voice replied, “we don’t have priority.” ‘Well,’ said the lazy voice again, ‘I have to poop. That’s a priority.’
We climbed the escalator and joined a new line of people waiting. There was also a screen here and according to this screen it now took about 50-60 minutes before it was our turn. Great, we were in a time loop. If I had been Robbert Dijkgraaf I would not have been lucky. But I was not Robbert Dijkgraaf.
Slowly the movement moved out of line. The shutter of one of the control desks went down. Maybe they had lunch break. There was an indignant murmur. Time seemed to solidify until it was fat and heavy, pressing with all its weight on my triumphant optimism about making it to our flight. He pressed and squeezed, until there was nothing left but a silly pile of doubt.
Suddenly the shutter opened again. Maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe someone had found another can of security guards somewhere. Time slowly began to flow again. Someone in line started clapping. He was applauded. And even more acclaim. The applause swelled, gaining hands and strength, until finally it clattered ovation across the hall. It was weird and exaggerated and embarrassing.
And quite rightly so.