LaGuardia Airport

Growing up, I loved going to the airport. The airport was a wonderful, clean and exciting place to pick up grandma and grandpa. Other times it was the initial venue marking the beginning of an exhilarating journey into the Florida sun or to see the fun faces of friends in California. In my early days, I looked forward to a pre-flight cookie and a comfy leather seat as I awaited my departure. Later on, I would grow accustomed to the frothy pleasure of a pre-flight Guinness. And in every case, I was met with welcoming faces, wonderful Midwestern attitudes and a courteous punctuality that I came to expect.

And then I moved to New York.

While our fair city boasts magnificent skyscrapers and perpetually fills them with the brightest minds in the world, somehow, New York has completely overlooked our means of air transport.

For the cash-conscious, perhaps the most acute shortcoming of LaGuardia airport is that there’s no way to travel there via subway. If your poor body wants to steer itself through the stress of the M60 bus, the MTA menacingly invites you to do so. Or you can take a $30 cab. Your call.

If you aren’t fond of construction-site port-o-potties or your grandmother’s cramped, mothy attic, you’re probably best off staying away from LaGuardia airport. The terminals are filthy and hot and everyone is mean. Schedules are meaningless because each and every flight is delayed at least an hour. Security is tough, and slow, because it’s New York City and the dining options are unacceptable.

Among the many enemies I’ve made waiting for oft-delayed flights are roaches, mice and exceptionally rude flight attendants. One time, I had to catch a flight right after work and didn’t have time to eat. When I got to the terminal, my only options were stale pretzels from Aunty Annie’s and some fairly scary-looking Dunkin’ Donuts (served by Rodrigo, who, presumably, flunked his hygiene refresher course from his GED program). Regrettably, I went with the pretzel.

I was sick 25 minutes later…thank goodness it happened on the ground. I suppose it was the only time I was relieved my departure had been delayed.

Dearly departed Fiorello LaGuardia would turn in his grave if he ever found out that our fair city named such a shit-hole after him!