As I exited my plane in Chicago, ready for my two hour layover and a nice fat cup of coffee, I realized that I had never actually been to this airport before. And since I was coming from San Francisco, with the next layover in Krakow, I needed to get from the domestic terminal to he international terminal.
This task proved harder than I thought. I passed a multitude of coffee shops and ass on my quest to find gate M4. I followed signs for terminals E,F, and C, but could find no sign of the destination I longed for.
It wasn't until I happened on a little diagram of terminal 2, hanging quietly on a wall, that I discovered I had to take a friggin' tram to the international terminal. I followed my gut, for the lack of signage, and hauled my ass to the tram station.
I always figure when at places like airports where your actions depend veryuh on times (if you want to catch your flight, you better get there in time, or else you'll be spending your night in a hotel that smells like the canals of Venice).
I find it unfortunate that his tram takes you, at least according to the security officers, out of the airport. And so I had to trudge through security, again, which means I had to throw away my $5 water I bought in SFO.
I emerged, in the international terminal, only to find that he coffee shops and restaurants that littered the domestic terminal were little more than a distant memory. Its as if this amrican airport was saying "you're abandoning your country, you don't get to eat...you must suffer with airplane coffee...take that, traitor!"
The moral of this story, of course, is grab that coffee and deep dish pizza while you can, because your flight is destined to be delayed anyway (by 45 minutes).
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