I travel a lot.
In the last three months, I have traveled to Miami, Toronto, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Washington, DC, Toronto again, and Victoria.
Next week I’ll be in Traverse City, Michigan,
These are only the places where I have flown. I’ve also driven to Montreal, Quebec City, Boston, NYC, and Providence.
To make this travel happen, I have systems in place to ensure everything runs smoothly. This includes a backpack that, except for clothing, is always ready to go. Anything in my backpack that I sometimes need outside my backpack is duplicated, so it can never be forgotten, and my backpack’s contents are a masterpiece of preparation and efficiency.
Perhaps one day I’ll create a list of its contents to share with you.
I also have TSA PreCheck, Clear, and Global Entry to bypass long security lines. I can access all of my airline apps biometrically. I have accounts with a preferred car rental agency, two preferred hotel chains, and an airport parking service.
Establish a routine, and maintain that routine, and you’ll rarely go wrong.
So when I was flying with my friend, Ellen, from Victoria to Connecticut last week, it made no sense for me to break from my established routines, but I did. I have a security pocket in my backpack for my passport, and when I don’t need it, that is where it stays.
Except while waiting in the Vancouver airport with Ellen, I broke with routine and placed my passport in my back pocket, knowing I would need it to board the flight from Vancouver to Denver. Rather than taking the nine seconds to secure my passport in my backpack, I decided to make things easy and simply keep it in my pocket.
About 30 minutes later, as the plane began boarding, I returned from the restroom, reached for my passport, and discovered it was gone.
Somewhere along the way, I had lost it, which meant I would not be permitted on the flight from Vancouver to Denver.
I tried not to panic, but it was difficult not to. I couldn’t believe it. The one thing you can’t afford to lose in a foreign country is your passport, and I had done just that.
I launched from my seat and retraced my steps, going first to the shop where I purchased a soda, searching the floor between the refrigerated case and the cashier. Then I returned to the restroom, which I had just used. When I entered, I saw a small boy using the urinal that I had been using minutes before, so I stood behind him, a little too closely, waiting for him to move.
A man beside me gave me a curious look. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I had cut ahead of the man.
“I dropped my passport somewhere,” I said. “And my plane is boarding. I just used this urinal, so I’m waiting for him to finish so I can look.”
The man pointed at the floor in front of me. “It’s right there.”
“What?” I said. I was so panicked I could not see straight. I looked where the man was pointing and saw nothing.
“It’s right there,” he repeated, pointing again.
And yes, when I looked closer, I saw it, inches from my left foot.
I scooped it up, thanked the man, and bolted to my gate, only to find Ellen in a similar state of panic. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life,” she said. “I couldn’t leave my bags, but I couldn’t just leave you hanging. It was awful.”
Indeed, it was.
I learned the value of routines and procedures from a combination of years in the Boy Scouts followed by a decade spent managing McDonald’s restaurants While watching “The Founder” — the biopic about McDonald’s founder Ray Kroc, Elysha watched a scene where systems in the kitchen were being established with enormous effort and precision and asked me, “Is this why you are you?”
Yes. At least partially so. I’ve always been a believer in finding the best way to do something and sticking to it.
Except last week, when I skipped a routine and was nearly stranded in the Vancouver International Airport.
Routines and procedures are created to prevent mistakes and avoid stupidity.
This fleeting moment of panic was a good lesson for me:
Stick to the script, jerk. You wrote it for a reason.
