So here I am, ready to go, bags packed, one checked, comfy airport clothes on, and am I on a plane as I am supposed to be? Did it depart 15 minutes ago? Of course not. This is American Airlines. This is life- shit happens.
I arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare, using it for long hugs with my mom and roaming inane magazine stands. As I checked in the ticket agent did not mention anything was wrong with the flight, she simply sneered at me, exuding the attitude of “who are you, you little 20 something in Teva’s? Why the heck are you in the first class line, Waste Of My Time?” Brushing her off as best I could, I made my way over to the Admirals Club (forgot to mention, I bought my flight on miles, which I am blessed enough to have collected, which was why I was worthy of such perks on this trip. It was supposed to be fun- it’s not yet). I sat down and pulled out my book, reading and snacking. Then, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to double-check my flight information to see the accurate boarding time. It was only then I realized my flight had been delayed a half hour. I jumped up and headed towards the “departure” screen. The new post: Delayed 9:00pm.
I guess that was the moment I began to sweat.
Delayed three hours would put me into LA at 11:35pm. Too bad my flight to Hong Kong takes off at 11:20pm. I saw that there was a flight boarding at that moment for LA. I ran back to my seat, snatched my bag and bolted towards gate H12 (all the while appreciating my Teva’s, thank you very much). I arrived as the doors closed. My heart dropped. I felt as though my entire trip was being stomped on, that maybe some outside force was telling me not to go, that this wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing with myself.
I made my way back to the Admirals Club and straight to the ticket agent desk. I was near tears. Now, if you know me, you know I am not prone to crying when things go wrong. I generally take a breath and realize it’s not life or death (thank goodness) and move on. This was a different story. This trip has been so built up for me, I’ve spent the last months organizing for it, planning all future plans around it. And here it was, squashed in about two seconds. At least, that’s a how it felt.
The agent put me on a standby list for another flight, which I will be shocked to get on, and confirmed a seat on a later flight to Hong Kong. It’s not ideal- my business class seat to China is gone and I’m suck in O’Hare, but really, if those are my biggest complaints, I am a very lucky soul.
So here I am, drinking a Fat Tire, writing this post. The next one, I hope, will be filled with tales of Thai greetings, that is, if I ever get there.