Homeward bound

It is early in the morning, dark and chilly.  As drive up to the concrete labyrinth that houses the rental cars, I think about my family on the other side of the country and how their day is well underway. I'm anxious to get home but there is nothing I can do to move the process along more quickly.  I am aware that at the entrance to this parking garage I will be swallowed by the incomprehensible machinery of the transportation system.  I will be transformed from an individual into the product.  It is something I have learned to tolerate because of the necessity to travel.  The excitement I used to feel at this moment is just a pleasant, distant memory.  After taking a couple of deep breaths I manage to reduce my stress level slightly and I pull into the structure.

I navigate through the turns and ramps and finally pull into the rental car return area designated by bright yellow letters as belonging to HERTZ.  One of the attendants, bundled against the chilly morning, begins waving at me from the far end of the area.  He is directing me into a particular parking lane.  Maybe this guy used to work on the ground crew before the rental car company.  His arms over his head beckon me forward as if he was marshaling an airplane into a gate rather than the Ford Explorer into a parking space. I imagine him holding orange flashlights and that I am a pilot of an airliner arriving home after a long trip.  As soon as I put the car into park the fantasy ends and he moves around behind me to marshal the next vehicle into place.  I suppose he is happy to be moving around and staying warm.  Realizing that my day is just beginning, I wonder briefly if he is at the start or end of his shift.

I step out of the car, the customary routine begins.  A young lady wearing a headscarf and a heavy winter jacket, scans a barcode on the windshield. She consults the screen on her device and without making any eye-contact asks “How was the car Mr….  Limmer?”.  Her voice is light, pleasant and carries an easily detectable middle-eastern accent.  I say "fine".  I have gotten over correcting the pronunciation of my name or providing any real detail about the vehicle's performance.  The reality is that neither of us really cares to have a conversation at this hour and this is simply part of the ritual. 

As she walks around the vehicle checking for serious damage she asks “Did you buy gas?” and I respond in the affirmative.  She reminds me to “…please double check for all your belongings”.   The handheld device vibrates and makes a subtle grinding sound before spitting out the receipt which she tears off and hands to me.  In an insincere, tired voice that I’m sure has repeated the phrase a hundred times since the beginning of what has probably been a long, overnight shift she says “Thank you for renting from Hertz.”  The entire transaction is now complete and my attendant moves on to the next vehicle in line.  I make my way through the parking garage, up the maze of escalators and to the shuttle bus.  I'm on my way home.