Late Diagnosis: Aspiemoon

A series on adapting to live with an Autism diagnosis

Exiting the gate, my legs begin to regain circulation. As I’m passing by them, I notice that the people waiting to board at the gate are, on average, 30 times more attractive than anyone who has ever existed in Massachusetts.

I pick up my luggage at the carousel, eager to complete the last leg of my journey. This part is one of my favorites.

It’s around 1:15 in the afternoon, and I’m already feeling jet lagged. Stepping out with my carry-on and a pink and brown giraffe-print duffel bag, the first thing that hits me is the temperature difference. It’s perfect. Not too hot, not too cold. You wouldn’t know it from the employees of LAX, who are bundled up like the employees at Logan.

At the car rental pickup, another employee greets me as I exit the shuttle. I’m fumbling through my wallet for a dollar to give the driver, and I hear her speak to me. Totally missed what she said. I ask her to repeat.

“I said, we’re out of Gold member vehicles currently. You’re welcome to take an upgrade.” She smiles politely. “Is your name on the board?”

I glance at the beginning of the list. “Archambault Nicole, GOLD” is fourth down. I nod to her, and she points me toward a lot full of large SUVs.