I hate K19.
I would rather do anything than deal with gate K19. There are others that are bad, but K19 has become my nemesis.
For me, K19 it is at the end of civilization, a long, back-breaking walk from airport security in Terminal 3 at O’Hare airport. If you are rushing to catch a flight or make a connection, which is almost always the case for me, K19 seems like it is in another city. Oh, I know there are other “long distance” gates at O’Hare and many other airports across the world, but K19 is my demon. I have slogged, run, crawled to K19 so many times.
Late at night, battling a cold or rushing to make a tight connection—and not one cart to be found; why not H4, or some C gate at the front of the terminal, but K19. The airport and airline gods are conspiring to physically wreck me.
It is particularly depressing at night when the concourse is not teaming with people. You look down this long tube of a hall—K19 is so far away you can’t see it, but you know that it is there, waiting. It is particularly insulting when you walk past other empty gates in the same city as the terminal and for there never to be an electric cart when you need it, not even for a road-weary warrior trying to get home. I loathe K19.
© 2012 John Gregory Self