The one good thing about not blogging
very often is I get to save up a lot of stories/incidents to blog
about later. If I can just remember them all. This travel story
happened last December.
On December 28, the last day of my
Christmas holiday family visitation trip, the weather forecasters
predicted 27 inches of snow at home. As usual, they were completely
wrong; we only got 24 inches. But I was far away and unconcerned in
unusually balmy weather in Tennessee. With two days to clear the
snow from the runway and with the airport within walking distance of
home if necessary, I didn't worry.
Amazingly, on my last night away, with
humid conditions and a 68 degree temperature, we had a perfect night
to sit by the hotel firepit without even a jacket. Two of my
brothers were there along with assorted other hotel guests as we
relaxed and eventually closed down the bar which proved to be my
first mistake as hotel bars generally close at 11:00 or midnight, and
I had to get up at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 6:00 a.m. flight home.
One of the other hotel guests opened up
a travel bag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey for just such an
emergency. When he asked us if we wanted some, my answer of "sure"
became my second mistake. We enjoyed conversation late into the
night, and I had become completely oblivious to the time. As we
staggered back into the hotel, my brother said, "I can't believe
it's 3:00 a.m." Crud.
At that point, I decided if I went to
sleep I'd never get up for my flight so I just sat on the bed
watching tv for an hour trying to stay awake. Finally at 4:00 a.m.,
I got up to get in the shower as my phone buzzed with a voicemail.
"That can't be good," I
thought as I grabbed the phone and played the message.
"Hello, this is We Don't Fly in
Snow Airlines. We regret to inform you that your flight from Dallas
to Antarctica has been cancelled. However, we have booked you on a
later flight which departs on January 2."
"January! That's next year!"
I fumed to no one. "Four days? I can't get home for four days?"
I settled down and decided not to
panic. I've been in these situations before; I'm sure I can get a
flight via standby. I also realized that I could just stay in town
for another day or two and at least visit family and catch a flight
later in the week.
I checked in at the airport and told
the agent that if I could book a later flight, I'd just hang around a
few days. She glanced at the long line behind me and suggested that
all flights were booked up forever and ever and that I should be
happy just to get to Dallas. I figured she might be right, and at
least St. Pauli Girl could always drive to Dallas to pick me up. So
I headed toward the gate.
I finally collapsed into my seat on the
plane ready to sleep for a solid two hours during the flight. An
older man in jeans and a straw cowboy sat next to me (normal attire
on a flight to Texas). I quickly closed my eyes to signal him not to
bother me.
The plane finally took off, and I tried
to get comfortable for my nap. I heard a slight buzzing sound and a
light rap that slowly grew louder. I opened my eyes and noticed the
man next to me humming some sort of chant while patting out time with
his hands on his thighs. Then the chant went quiet and suddenly got
loud again. I decided the best plan of action would be to ask him
about it and see if he could keep it a little quieter.
"That's a lovely hymn you got
going there," I said. "What does it mean?"
"Thank you. It doesn't really
translate to English. But it basically means, 'hope the plane don't
crash.'"
"Keep up the good work," I
said as I turned back to the window and closed my eyes.
Thanks to his chanting, we made it
safely to Dallas and I was now running on about 20 minutes of sleep
in 24 hours. I decided I would treat myself to breakfast plus coffee
before my next flight. I liked my chances; with the snow two days
old, surely they had plowed the runway by now? As I finished my
eggs, my phone received another voicemail.
"Hello, this is See You Next Year
Airlines, your 9:30 flight has been cancelled. We booked you on
standby on a 2:30 p.m. flight but don't hold your breath. And
remember we still have a seat saved for you on that January 2 flight.
Have a nice day!"
By the time I had paid my check, and
left the restaurant, I looked up at a departures screen to see the
2:30 flight had been cancelled already. I called St. Pauli Girl to
relay the good news. Originally, we had planned to drive back to
Dallas on the 30th anyway to celebrate my birthday and spend the
weekend there. We came up with a brilliant plan that I could just
spend the night in Dallas, and she would drive out the next day like
we had planned.
I decided I had better talk to a real
airline agent to get everything straightened out. After an hour, I
made it to the front of the line and spoke to an agent.
I said, "Look my wife is gonna
pick me up tomorrow, so just keep me on that January 2 flight just in
case. I'll just spend the night here."
Relieved that he didn't have to think
or that I wasn't the typical angry psychopath airline passenger, he
said, "Would you like a discounted hotel room?"
"Why yes, yes I would. Of course,
I suppose I can't check in until this afternoon..."
"Nonsense, an airport shuttle will
meet you over there by exit G."
Finally, things were looking up for
me... ( to be continued)