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A Life in Plastic Baggies

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A Life in Plastic Baggies

Tag Archives: Intrepid E

The Unkindness of Strangers

21 Monday Jan 2013

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Seatmate Shenanigans

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Intrepid E, Oy

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: BDL-MSP

Apologies for the delay on this post; it’s been a busy start to 2013!

The story I’m about to regale you with, from our flight back from visiting E’s parents in Connecticut for the New Year, includes another apology of sorts as I’ve been a little remiss in keeping you all up to speed…E and I are adding another traveler to the pack with a baby due this May. Whee!

(So yes, if you’re mentally counting, Phoenix, Montreal (and the failed trip to Montreal), and Tokyo all happened while I’ve been gestating. I’ll write a separate post on the perks and pitfalls of flying pregnant because it’s certainly changed my perspective on a few things. Like the fact that I should qualify for pre-boarding since it takes so much exertion to get myself on a plane these days.)

Anyhoo–we’re very excited for spring! It will definitely mean a bit of a hiatus on the ol’ blog but I hope you will forgive me. Just think of the posts to come of me flying with a child and all its accompanying crap! [Shudder.]

Back to my story. Thanks to our recent trip to Tokyo, we got upgraded on both legs of our Connecticut trip this December. I missed the free booze but E’s drinking for three these days so we got our money’s worth. The flight out went smoothly despite the long wait for some hydraulic meter to be reset and then de-icing but we arrived mostly on time and had a lovely and restful mini-vacation to the East Coast.

When we got our upgrade notification for the flight home, I was surprised to see that we’d been split up (2D and 4D). Upgraded beggars can’t be choosers, however, so we figured we’d just ask someone nicely to switch with us. Surely a Minnesota-bound flight would be filled with kind people who would want a pregnant woman to sit with her husband, right? Especially when we’re all in first class anyway? Wrong.

Assuming our best bet would be getting the person in 4C to move up to my seat in 2D, E told me to look as pregnant as possible as he asked the gentleman seated in the coveted seat. And he said no. No! Can you believe it? His father was in the first coach row bulkhead seat just behind him and he wanted to keep close. I mean, I guess I get this to a degree, but it’s a two hour flight and I was looking really pitiful. Sigh.

Onto contestant #2, the woman who came to sit next to me. I was already in my window seat and very pleasantly asked her if she would mind taking my husband’s seat in 4D, all while attempting to look as adorable and fat as possible. It sort of worked: like a true Minnesotan, I got a huffy, passive-aggressive, “Fine.” Really? It’s not like I asked you to sit in the last seat of coach that doesn’t recline. Or asked you to take a later flight. Or asked you to gouge your eyes out with cocktail skewers. I thanked her as graciously as possible and rolled my eyes at E when he sat down. People.

And finally, we were home and ready to start what will be a very exciting year. In addition to the addition, we’re also building a house and I’m becoming President-Elect of the Junior League of Minneapolis (erm, the day after the baby’s due date). So, you know, keeping things real. Real busy.

Next trip is this week actually–as President Elect-Elect of the JLM, I am off to a winter conference in Las Vegas. Gotta get the miles while I’m still able!

Tokyo Part One: The longest journey

02 Sunday Dec 2012

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Adventures Abroad, Holiday Hell, With love from the Tarmac

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Delta, holiday travel, Intrepid E

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-NRT

Much like the pilgrims, we spent this Thanksgiving in a new country (because I’m so pilgrim-like). E’s sister and brother-in-law moved to Tokyo in June and we could not resist the opportunity to visit a new country (and continent!) with our very own personal tour guides. In my infinite travel planning wisdom, I thought that the week after Thanksgiving would be the perfect time for a week out of the office. This logic was pretty good except for the part where it meant we needed to fly out the day before Thanksgiving…you know, the busiest travel day of the year.

Luckily, MSP had things under control and the lines were not horrible when we showed up three hours before our flight (skipping the line with the status card didn’t hurt, however). After bumping into some friends and former neighbors (and E giving a wave to some lawyer he knew who was getting a pat-down), we had ample time to sit in the Delta lounge and catch up on work before setting the Out-of-Office replies and getting on our way.

Well, trying to anyway.

Boarding went smoothly enough and we were soon strapped in and ready for our 12+ hour flight (a direct flight seemed like such a good idea when I booked it buy OY that makes for a long sit). And there we sat…and sat…and sat some more until finally the pilot came on to say that they were waiting for the print-out of how much weight we were carrying. I still cannot figure out how, on a plane that took over an hour to board, they could not have this done in time for an on-time departure. Not that I’m not used to sitting on the Tarmac waiting for Delta to be ready to go, but seriously? And just like that, our 12 hour flight became an hour longer. Sigh.

Tokyo Park Hyatt view

View from the 52nd floor of the Park Hyatt (the bar from Lost in Translation).

But we made it! And Tokyo was phenomenal–truly. The city is mesmerizing, the food is incredible, and it was great to get some family time in a new place. A few tips should you venture to Japan anytime soon:

  1. Like the Brits, the Japanese drive on the left…which means they also walk on the left side of the sidewalk. It took me about three days to get out of everyone’s way.
  2. There is no graciousness like that of the Japanese culture. Do not reach to snag a shopping bag once your transaction is complete; the associate will walk you out of the store and hand it to you.
  3. Eschew your American tendencies to get to the front of the line all the time. The Japanese line up in marked queues at the subway stops and wait until passengers have disembarked before getting on the train.

    Kamakura shrine

    Gorgeous shrine in Kamakura

  4. On that note, never worry about making a train–they run every few minutes without fail. No need to make a mad dash.
  5. Smoking is generally allowed in restaurants but not at sushi counters.
  6. Soba might be one of the best things ever invented, right behind soup dumplings.
  7. An earthquake is nothing to get overly concerned about (usually). We were at the Park Hyatt’s New York Bar on the 52nd floor when a 4.9 magnitude earthquake struck. E thought it was fun. I thought it was terrifying. The waiter asked if we wanted more rice crackers.
  8. It’s almost impossible to mentally calculate what something really costs between dollars and yen (at least for this English major). Don’t sweat it; it’s all money well spent.
Mori Tower View

The view from the 53rd floor of the Mori Tower – Mt. Fuji’s in the background

All in all, a great time. We unfortunately did not venture far outside of Tokyo but were hardly left wanting for more to see and do. Although we were dead on our feet for a few days due to severe jet lag, we agreed that it was one of the best trips we’ve ever taken.

Second post about our trip home to come!

Montreal Take One: The trip that almost wasn’t

15 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Not Even On a Plane

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

all out disasters, Delta, Intrepid E

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-YUL

A funny awful thing happened on our way to the airport last week…we never got there.

Thursday afternoon we were en route to the airport from downtown Minneapolis when we came to a dead stop at the 35W/62E split (this color is more interesting if you’re familiar with the Minneapolis highway system. If you’re not, just imagine a newly overhauled highway bypass where an interstate splits from an over-burdened highway and the sight lines are almost nonexistent).

Stopped in the airport exit lane, I glanced in the passenger rear view mirror just in time to see a cab coming full speed into the back of our car.

I don’t remember a lot of what happened next but apparently I uttered, “Oh god” and then the cab was in our trunk and we were ramming into the SUV in front of us. E absorbed the brunt of the impact as we were mostly hit on the driver’s side but despite this, he lived up to his Intrepid E moniker and used the burst of adrenaline to ignore his injuries and take hold of the situation. He asked me if I was ok, called an ambulance, and got us out of the car before calling our insurance agent’s office from the 62 shoulder abutting 35W.

Two Ginsburgs, one hospital bed: awaiting x-ray results

There is an airline story in here, promise. You know that whole “when you can’t control something, control anything” saying? That was me in the back of the ambulance. Right after my vitals were cleared by the EMTs, I got Delta on the phone. After explaining the situation and the fact that I was in an ambulance headed for the emergency room, the Delta agent not only confirmed us for the next direct flight to Montreal, she expedited it within minutes, told me there would be no charges whatsoever, and said she’d get me off the phone and send an email confirmation momentarily (for the record: I had the confirmation by the time we were out of Triage. Impressive.).

I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow of the 5+ hours we spent at the Abbott Emergency Room. E ended up with the worst injuries because he turned to look at me at the last second (verified by the X-ray attending) which resulted in a sprained neck, among other tedious injuries to his shoulder and back. We’re hopeful he’ll make a full recovery in time.

Thanks to the comforts of modern medicine, we did make our rescheduled flight the following evening. More on that to come. For now, our sincere gratitude to the MN State Troopers and incredible EMTs. Not my favorite trip but certainly one of the more memorable.

‘No’ Nonsense

29 Tuesday May 2012

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Fun with Security, Seatmate Shenanigans

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Intrepid E, Oy, TSA is my fave

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-AUS

The word ‘No’ is one you hear frequently at the airport, especially from TSA and airline staff: “No, you can’t bring that bottle of hairspray in your carry-on”; “No, you can’t put your dog through the X-ray machine” (true story–I once saw a woman contemplating whether she was supposed to carry her Shih Tzu or put it on the conveyor), “No, you can’t jam your roller board under the seat in front of you if there isn’t any overhead space.” You catch my drift.

When the word ‘No’ comes from a fellow passenger however, things get decidedly more interesting. En route to Austin for a wedding last week, E and I observed two such instances:

#1: “No, I shall keep my jacket.”

My first story happened within 10 minutes of arriving at the airport (always a great tone to set for an afternoon of flying fun, no?). After scanning in at the podium, E and I queued at the third of four conveyors as it appeared that some altercation was going down on the fourth conveyor. In fact, the fourth conveyor was completely stopped, giving off a post-apocalyptic vibe with all its luggage and bins frozen on their way to the X-ray machine.

Beside the abandoned lane was a family made up of about eight 20-somethings and one old man who was probably in his mid-70s. E and I quickly pieced together that the issue was with the older man who was dressed in a full suit and not speaking English. The younger family members were animatedly arguing with him as he, apparently, did not want to remove his suit jacket. After finally coaxing it off of him several minutes later, he did not want to relinquish it. He just kept yelling what I can only assume was, “No, I shall keep my jacket!” Or something to this effect.

The polite Minnesotans all around this debacle clucked concernedly to each other as the perturbed TSA agent kept (helpfully!) interjecting that the jacket went through the machine or the man didn’t fly.

I don’t know what became of this group. We clearly needed drinks after the steep emotional toll of observing this all go down so once through security, we were off to Surdyk’s.

#2: “No, I don’t think I can do that.”

As is my usual wont, I had booked us in exit rows for both ends of the trip. Settled in to Row 9, the Delta agent came by to get our verbal confirmation that we would all be willing and able to help in an emergency situation. Seated to E’s left (on the aisle) was an older woman who, when asked if she could help in an emergency situation, answered, “No, I don’t think I can do that.”

Now, on the one hand I have to give her kudos for her honesty. She certainly didn’t look like she’d be the most useful in a high-adrenaline situation (there’s no way she could have done anything with a 42 pound door) so it was definitely for the good of the plane that she responded in the negative.

On the other hand, why the deuce did she book an emergency row in the first place?

At any rate, the Delta flight attendant handled the situation calmly. He took her response in stride and suggested another seat for her…which she turned down. Yes, it was at the back of the plane but oy. She then suggested that she’d stay in her seat after all but the flight attendant told her that she’d already said no and therefore he had to respect that response and move her. As you can imagine, there was no shortage of passengers willing to switch with her so it didn’t take long to get the whole thing sorted. Plus, her replacement looked much more able-bodied should any disasters have arisen.

After a whole lot of surprising ‘no’s, we were finally off to the capital of Texas. Yeehaw and whatnot.

Home now, several things have been reaffirmed for me:

  1. I could die happily if I got to eat Migas daily.
  2. E can cut a serious rug.
  3. I am not built for heat. I was mostly a melty pool of Minnesotan for three straight days.

Until the next trip, y’all!

Comparative Studies in Security Lines

08 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Fun with Security, Holiday Hell

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Delta, Intrepid E, Oy, TSA is my fave

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-BDL / BDL-MSP

Holiday weekend travel, nothing better–amirite?! This past weekend, E and I did a quick back and forth from fly-over to Passover and I was unbelievably annoyed from start to finish. Look, I get that I am short on patience. And I get that I fly more than many, especially more than the infrequent flyers that come out of the woodwork around the holidays, but can I get a collective oy? If you don’t travel a lot, please save yourself a dirty look from me and Google “things to know when you fly”, Ok? Ok.

First things first: The Way There

After a 4am wakeup call, we were at the airport at 5:30 for our 7am flight to Connecticut and surprised to find very short security lines. Unfortunately, what was lacking in volume was made up for in annoyingness of fellow travelers.

In the security line, we were behind a family of four who had no idea what was going on. Understanding exactly half the Ziploc directive, they had their liquids packed in appropriately sized baggies…and several of them per person. Sigh. I amusedly watched the mother practically get naked in anticipation of the body scanner–shoes, socks, belt, coat, sweatshirt (I almost intervened to stop her when she decided she was bare enough)–and wedge all these items into one plastic bin (along with her three Ziplocs, purse and the shoulder strap of her duffel bag), as if she thought there was a one-per-person limit.

Breakfast of champions.

I then turned irrationally livid watching the girl behind me get pulled out of line and told that the full-size liquids in her carry-on were not allowed. “What? Really? But it says it’s travel size.” OMFG. E had to pull me away from the security area before my invective became too audible.

To be fair, however, unlike the second story I’m about to weave for you, at least these travelers didn’t delay me. You do not want to delay me at the airport. Ask E what happens if you walk too slowly on the moving sidewalk.

Plus, we were upgraded (see right), which always makes life a little better. There are few things I enjoy as much as free liquor. Sorry, mom.

Second things second: Home again

More fun in the security line on the way home. Although Bradley has become a pretty good looking and well functioning airport, it still surprises me in how it can be slightly behind the times (for example: the full-body scanner needs eight seconds to process. All the big airports’ machines take three seconds. Just saying.).

In the one line that accepted electronic boarding passes (see what I mean?), E and I got split up between a family of three made of a father and his two teenage daughters who, as teenage girls are wont to be, looked completely bored and judgmental. The three of them were flying to California, connecting through somewhere, and the father handed the security agent their cumulative six boarding passes in one pile. The security agent was not pleased as he had to sort the boarding passes to look at the three currently in question. He then asked daughter #1 (the one who had a cold and was incapable of sneezing without commentary about how sick she felt) what her full name was.

“Christine.”

“Your full name.”

“What?”

Please shoot me. After he got her full name out of her, he turned to daughter #2 and asked the same question. You’d think watching her sister go through this unbelievably complicated exercise would have prepared her but you’d be giving her a lot more credit than she deserved. Unreal. Remind me to raise children that are self-aware.

Kosher-ish

Anyway, we finally got through the slow x-ray machine (behind a gentleman who took his belt off…but then tried to carry it through with him…) and on our way to upgrade #2. And yes, I’ve decided wine is kosher for Passover.

Home. Finally.

One last story. Despite all the conspiracy to slow us down, nothing could stop us from an amazing feat of speed upon landing. We went from pulling up at the gate at 12:59 to being in the car and exiting the Gold ramp at 1:11. I kid you not. We were in the first row of first class and pulled in to D1, so we definitely had the fates on our side but we were pretty impressed with ourselves regardless.

Happy spring holidays to you all!

Holding Pattern

22 Sunday Jan 2012

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Un-fun Up in the Air

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Delta, Intrepid E

Trip type: Personal/Business

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-ATL

The more I fly, the more I’m subjected to hearing the same annoying phrases over and over again:

  1. Enjoy your flight! (Comment below if you have actually enjoyed a flight in the last year.)
  2. If there’s anything we can do to make your flight more comfortable, please let us know. (Ok, I’d like a wine IV and to not have to sit next to, um, anyone.)
  3. We apologize for the delay and will let you know more information as we receive it. (Sounds nice and reassuring but is sure to cause panic in 10 seconds flat.)
  4. We’ll just be sitting on the Tarmac for a bit until a gate/a de-icing machine/traffic control can accommodate us. (Shoot me now.)

And then there’s the phrase E and I heard this weekend on our flight to Atlanta: We’ve been put in a holding pattern.

Everything started smoothly enough…we had a 9am flight to Atlanta which departed on time and with little difficulty (although I was quickly reminded how slowly weekend flights board compared to my usual 6am Monday flights). We were just about to start descending for Atlanta when the announcement came:

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to bad weather in Atlanta, air traffic control has put us in a holding pattern for the next hour or so. Please remain seated during this time as the weather may cause unexpected turbulence. We’ll let you know if the situation changes.”

Um, ok. The iPad had plenty of battery so I wasn’t overly concerned for the moment. About a half hour later, we got the next update:

“There’s been a slight break in the weather so we’re going to try to land. Air traffic control thinks it can land three or four planes. Flight attendants, please prepare for landing.”

Well this looks promising! Then I see three enormous lightning bolts out of my window.

“Well, we clearly haven’t landed and it looks like we won’t soon…we’re headed back into the hold. Please remain seated.”

Sigh. When the updates get terse and to-the-point, you know everyone’s on her last nerve. Luckily, it wasn’t too much later until we got the final update:

“There’s been another break and we’ve been cleared for landing.”

Finally. We landed very fast but without much fanfare, and proceeded to have a great weekend in Atlanta (after years of flying through the Atlanta airport, I finally got to visit the Coca-Cola museum (highly recommended!)).

All of which brings me to my favorite saying; does anyone remember the “We love to fly and it shows” Delta ad campaign from way back? I sure do.

Traditions Worth Breaking

27 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Holiday Hell

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

holiday travel, Intrepid E

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-BDL

At this time of year, you tend to hear a lot about traditions and how they make the holiday season so memorable. Although I have many cherished traditions with my friends and family, there is one in particular I’d like to break and it has to do with flying to Connecticut with E around Christmas.

Last year, as you may recall from a previous post, we encountered pure hell on our flight home when we were diverted to Green Bay, Wisconsin and ended up driving ourselves home on an unlit highway. I neglected to mention, however, that this trip started with me breaking a couple of toes. As we were leaving directly after work, we had packed the night before and I had stupidly left my suitcase out in the middle of the bedroom. When I got up in the morning, I walked right into it and managed to break my second and third toes on my left foot. True to form, I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal, popped a couple of Tylenol and put on socks so I wouldn’t have to look at my feet. By the time we got to CT that evening, my toes were bruised and about twice their usual size. Luckily, E’s mom is a doctor and was able to bandage me up and play apothecary from the family’s well-stocked personal pharmacy stash.

Here we are in 2011. You would think that last year’s luck would guarantee us smooth sailing this year. So far, we’re batting 1000.

Thursday, I visited my doctor who suggested I get a Tetanus shot since I couldn’t remember when I’d had my last one and they’re only good for about 10 years. Sure, why not; let’s plan ahead. The nurse told me (after the shot, naturally) that my arm might be sore for a couple of days. Fine. Well, come Sunday morning (yes, Christmas Day, also known as the best day to require medical attention), it was not only still sore but was also red, hot to the touch, and absolutely throbbing (I had noticed this going on for the past few days as well but, as mentioned above, thought that ignoring it was the surest way for it to disappear on its own. I may have to revise my views on self-medicating.).

Thanks to Walgreens for being open on Christmas Day.

Although my MD mother-in-law came to the rescue again, diagnosing me over FaceTime and finding a Walgreens that was actually open to which she called in a couple of prescriptions for me, I realized that with the pre-flight-to-CT-physical-ailment-requiring-a-doctor already taking place, I was now on track for a repeat of last year. Drat.

The next day, we were off to the airport bright and early because of course we would choose to fly the day after Christmas for no real reason with every other holiday traveler on the planet. Good planning. The two things working in our favor were our propensity for showing up quite early on notoriously busy travel days and the promise of an already-confirmed upgrade to first class. Not to mention being able to jump the security line with a status card (E now thinks I’m magic).

So other than the flight attendant dumping some (luckily NOT scalding) coffee on E (“Don’t worry, he’s a lawyer!” I helpfully chirped to her), the flight to Bradley was uneventful and filled with delicious Bloody Marys. Yes, plural.

Safely ensconced on the East coast, I can only hope  our flight home does not come with any rerouting.

Thankful

23 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Holiday Hell, It's not always so bad

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Delta, holiday travel, Intrepid E

In honor of Thanksgiving, from the archives. Thanksgiving 2010.

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-BDL

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a little neurotic sometimes. Especially as it pertains to flying. I carry the exact same liquids (which I pack in the exact same order in their baggie) on every flight. I methodically engineer my suitcase to balance weight and category of each item. I use the same security line at MSP. Everything goes on the conveyer belt in the same order. You catch my drift.

Knowing this, you can probably guess how well I take to any deviation in my carefully devised craziness, especially when set to fly the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving Day. So when E suggested we bring a pie home with us from Salty Tart to Thanksgiving with his family, well, I was not on board (“It cuts down on a carry-on!”, “It’s supposed to stay refrigerated!”, “What if TSA decides it’s not packaged properly and throws it away?!”). Luckily for him (and [grumble] me), E has learned to take my resistance in stride and move forward with plans he knows are a good idea.

After scouring the Delta website, we ascertained that we could, in fact, bring the pie. Now my primary arguments were down to carry-on quantity and refrigeration. E’s usual mantra in life is that things will just work out and I must say this proves remarkably true for him. Not only did the pie make it through security unmolested, the ladies of the Delta Lounge even let us use their employee refrigerator to keep it cool before we left on our flight.

And it was a huge hit at the Thanksgiving table.

On that note, things related to flying for which I’m thankful:

1. Intrepid E – my favorite flying companion.

2. Great family I’d fly anywhere to be with.

3. The friends I can see without going to the airport and those that require a cross-country flight.

4. A tiny dog that I would never ever try and fly with. Oy gevalt.

5. Delta lounges with Wi-Fi and fully stocked bars.

6. Not having to do it this year. Staying home with E and the fur ball=Bliss.

Wishing you and yours a happy, safe, flight-nightmare-free Thanksgiving!

Texas Calling

09 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in It's not always so bad

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Delta, Intrepid E

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-AUS // AUS-MSP

As alluded to in Monday’s post, last weekend also brought the opportunity to travel for fun and the travel itself was actually rather enjoyable (so much so that E is now convinced I just make up the rest of this blog).

Glorious leg room

The flight to Austin came complete with an exit row (the glares from tall people are almost as delicious as the ridiculous leg room–see picture where I’m actually sitting on the very edge of the seat to get my feet this far forward).

Because we were on a Barbie jet, we had to gate-check our roller bags. I really enjoyed the Delta guy unloading the bags loudly muttering to himself when everyone was crowded in the jetway waiting to retrieve bags after the flight (“Can’t anyone read the signs? What is the matter with people?!”)–as if we were choosing to loiter and annoy him.

The flight home from Austin went smoothly as well, but the gate agent was one of the weirder representatives I’ve seen. He’s clearly been relegated to a corner of the Austin airport all on his lonesome for far too long (and perhaps with just cause).

At first I thought perhaps he was just a little off (like when he would make “announcements” every few minutes which pretty much just consisted of him babbling incoherently until he lost his train of thought and drifted off mid-sentence) but when it came time to start boarding, I decided he was just looking for some validation of importance. Why, you ask? Because he called roll for first class. Yes, one by one. He called their names and scanned their boarding passes individually. Happily, just when I was starting to worry that the entire boarding process would go in a similar vein, he jumped to zones.

The rest of the flight was smooth and we got home just in time for me to repack for this week’s adventure to Atlanta. If only I could have found a way to work my newly purchased cowboy boots into work attire…

Yee-haw!

Boston and the Bar

03 Saturday Sep 2011

Posted by alifeinplasticbaggies in Cancellation Clusters

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

all out disasters, Delta, Intrepid E

Another from the archives…July 2010.

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: BOS-MSP

For any readers who have taken the Bar exam (or any put-upon spouses who have lived through the fun), you’ll recall (undoubtedly with a shudder) how riddled with anxiety you were in the days leading up to it.

Now imagine that the last weekend before the bar you’re attending one of your best friend’s weddings. Then imagine this:

It’s Sunday, the morning after the wedding, and we’re due to leave Boston on a direct flight home at 6pm (E’s family is on the east coast so we wanted to stay a little longer to spend some time with them). At 11:30, I receive an automated call from Delta saying our flight is canceled and that we’ve been rebooked for tomorrow (aka Monday, aka the day before the Bar) going through Atlanta.

Immediate response: No.

Naturally, I immediately fall apart. I still, however, insist I will be the one to call Delta demanding a better resolution. I call Delta in tears telling them that we must reach Minneapolis tonight. Luckily, they are able to book us on two of the last three seats available. We have to leave almost immediately and connect through Reagan but we should make it home that day.

Off to the airport we go and E suggests we go to the Delta lounge in Boston’s A Terminal for some pre-flight drinks. The A Terminal is broken into two parts with an underground tunnel connecting either side. Our flight was on one side and the lounge was on the other. Nothing can ever be easy.

After a glass (or two…hard to remember) of wine, I’m feeling much better about life in general. We head back to the other side of the terminal to catch our connection to D.C. and find that the tunnel has been shutdown. Completely. As in, we’re on the moving sidewalk and nearly fall into a group of people as we come off of it because everyone has been halted so abruptly.

The crowd is tensely whispering to each other and it’s clear nobody has any idea what’s going on. There are some TSA folks lingering around acting as the barricade keeping us from the other side but they’re tight lipped. About 20 minutes in, I’m ready to have a conniption when they suddenly release the throng. No explanation given but hey, we’re on our way to the gate so I’m willing to let it go.

Finally aboard the Barbie jet, I’m praying we can just get to D.C. and connect home. The plane is so tiny we actually had to climb up the stairs and, as E and I are in the front row, we’re nearly knee-to-knee with the sole flight attendant when she tucks into her jump seat. We’re just about ready to push when she gets a call from the pilots telling her there’s weather trouble in the mid-Atlantic and D.C. is not accepting flights for the foreseeable future. Neat. After another tense 20 minute wait, D.C. apparently reopens and we’re able to leave (it’s funny how long 20 minutes can feel when you have no idea if you’re ever going to move).

We land in D.C. and as we come off the jetway and into the airport I see the telltale signs of a day of terrible mid-Atlantic weather: it looks like a refugee zone. (I ended up chatting with a woman who’d been at Reagan since 8am (it’s about 5pm at this point) trying to get to Atlanta. And she was with a small child. Note to self: It can always be worse.))

Now comes the fun of flying through Reagan where flights are bounced from gate to gate constantly. There were two flights to Minneapolis that afternoon, one at 4pm and one at 7pm. We’re on the 7pm but the 4pm hasn’t even left yet so I’m not feeling very optimistic about an on-time departure. Watching the flight board was useless as our flight went from one gate to another to disappearing altogether at one point. Finally, E suggested we split up and stand in line at each of the two counters we’d variously seen listed as hosting our flight (we needed seat assignments since we’d been added so late to the flight).

As I’m standing in my line across the concourse, I strike up a conversation (obviously) with some guy who tells me he’s a consultant who flies this route every Sunday and has yet to see a flight leave a.) on time, or b.) from it’s originally scheduled gate. Comforting.

Finally, there’s an announcement that the 4pm flight will leave from Gate 12 (where E is in line) at 8pm and the 7pm will leave immediately after). By the grace of g-d, E stays in line despite this announcement and when the gate agent comes back to say that there are 10 extra seats on the flight and the first 10 people in line will get them, the first thing to go right all day does and we get on the plane.

Despite my seatmate telling me the flight is Detroit-bound as some kind of sadistic joke, everything goes smoothly as we head to MSP. Funnily enough, for all the craziness we endured, we end up making it home only an hour later than we would have on our original flight.

(And E passed the bar.)

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