Airline Drama
It’s currently around 8:15, 35,000ft., and 600 mph, cruising towards New York. While normally I would be thrilled to be heading home after spending time in the armpit of the United States, this time, I’m just a little annoyed.
After the presentation was finished, and lunch had been served, it was time to head to the airport to catch our flights. So my two associates and I hopped in a cab and heading over to the airport in Columbus. We arrived at our destination around 1:00pm and quickly were able to check in. Me, being the observant fellow that I am, casually glanced down at my boarding pass and “6B”, this quickly registered in my mind as Gate 6, Concourse B. Thrilled with my deduction, I wished my co-workers well, and headed away from them. They were both flying through Delta and were catching flights out of Concourse C. I made my way through towards the security checkpoint, lazily just going about my business. Because my flight didn’t depart for another 3 hours, I wasn’t really too concerned about time. Upon arriving at the security checkpoint, I was promptly told that I needed to head over to Concourse C where “All Delta flights leave from”…upon further inspection, I realized that I failed to accurately identify the concourse on my ticket, instead I had found my seat number. Realizing that I had already bade farewell to my co-workers, one of them a very high level director in my firm, I was horrified that I would have to walk past them on my way to my gate.
To avoid this tricky, and potentially embarrassing situation of having to explain to my boss how, as an inexperienced traveler, I was unable to correctly identify the concourse on my ticket…I’m sure that would have really spoke volumes about my attention to detail, I ducked into the nearest bathroom to change. Having just come from the office, I was decked out in your typical business casual attire. Utilizing the spacious confines of the handicap stall in the men’s room, I opened up my suitcase and donned my slightly stinky blue jeans, and wholly stinky polo that I had been wearing on the flight over. To cover the fragrent aroma of my manliness, I did what any other self respecting male would do… yes, I applied another layer of deodorant.
With freshly scented armpits, a bag of clean clothes, and my flip-flops flopping, I stealthily made my way out into the terminal. I carefully approached each gate, scanning the seats to see if I could find my co-workers, but luckily, I seemed to be in the clear. Once I arrived at my gate, I took a seat and began to wait.
And I waited….
And I waited…
And I waited…
And finally, the PA speaker came on:
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the 4:55 flight to New York is going to be slightly delayed due to weather conditions coming out of Laguardia, we apologize for any inconvenience.”
Armed with this new information, I happily plodded along on my computer, abusing the free internet service that pervades the Columbus Airport. After another hour went by, and our boarding time skipped happily away with it, the PA came on in the terminal again.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are happy to announce that the 4:55 flight to New York via LaGuardia will be boarding as soon as the aircraft arrives in from New York. The flight from New York was scheduled to take off at 3:10, but is still sitting on the runway, so as soon as that flight gets underway, it should be another hour and forty-five minutes until we can board your flight. Thank you again for your patience.”
A collective sigh rang out throughout the culvert where all of the New York bound passengers were sitting, each looking more and more annoyed. I, being easily amused, especially with internet running and time to burn, wasn’t all that irritated. Don’t get me wrong, I would have rather been on my way home, but at least I wasn’t sitting on the runway, waiting to take off like those poor people in New York.
Around 7:30, almost three hours after we were scheduled to depart from a sunny Ohio airport, we were finally allowed to board the plane. After getting situated and familiarizing myself with the exit doors, I leaned my head against the wall of the plane and attempted to go to sleep.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we again apologize for the delay, but we’re going to have to remain here on the tarmac for at least another twenty-five minutes until we can get clearance from LaGuardia to take off.”
Comforted by the groaning sighs of the passengers aboard the aircraft, I again placed my head against the wall of the plane and went to sleep, finally waking to the sound of the stewardess telling us to buckle our seat belts because of turbulence.
I love to fly.