Dear hapless voyager, you have just embarked on a journey, the likes of which will make Hercules's Twelve Labors look like child's play. They call it Allegiant Airline, but do not be deceived by its innocuous name. For, you see, this trip from the bustling streets of Baltimore, the Charm City, to the wholesome cornfields of Des Moines, could be likened to a budget blend of The Odyssey and Dante's Inferno. Let's embark on this trail of humor and shared vicarious experience, shall we?
Let's start with the check-in process. To call it "efficient" would be a liberty akin to calling a sloth Usain Bolt. The queues wind back and forth like an anxious bride's jitters, with the speed of a glacier in no particular hurry. Each desk, manned by a worshipper of nonchalance, has a charisma that rivals the enthusiasm of a sloth on tranquilizers. But fear not dear travelers, for if you survive this purgatory, surely the plane ride awaits as a reward, no?
As you navigate through the labyrinth they denote as "security," you finally catch the first glimpse of the noble steed aka your Allegiant aircraft. It stands there, basking in reflected sunlight, almost reflecting a smug anticipation of the circus to follow. But pay it no mind, don your shades of optimism, and saunter towards the gateway with your head held high. Once you set foot on the plane, you can enjoy a game I like to call "fit the puzzle." In Allegiant's economical dictionary, "legroom" has the same antonym as "comfort."
The joy doesn't cease with just the Legos-like seats. As the plane lifts off, the gentle hum of engine transforms into a symphony that is best described as a cross between a revved up lawnmower and a poorly tuned guitar. But hold tight, for this is a customary tune that will serenade your journey through the skies.
Just when you thought your rations of fun had run dry, in comes the special treat - in-flight service. Place an order, of any sort, and your wish is their command...you'll just have to rub the lamp a few times. The suspense in the waiting period is second only to the climax of Hitchcock's Psycho. With time, the arrival of your modest box of pretzels and miniature can of soda will feel akin to the discovery of the Holy Grail. This, my friends, is what they call the essence of "delayed gratification."
However, let us not end on a note of desolation. For salvation is nigh in the form of Des Moines International Airport. As your journey concludes, step out into the embrace of wholesome cornfield air. The airport, a boutique haven in comparison to its counterparts, welcomes you with a sweet reassurance of the end of your Herculean trial.
And so dear voyager, as you continue your travels, remember to pack in good humor and the illustrious skill of wit in your luggage.
Safe travels, adventurer, for each journey molds stories and stories mold the traveler. And remember, even Odysseus and Dante made it back home at last.