March 11 - Just Let Me Fly
It’s no secret that flying recently hasn’t been, well, easy throughout the pandemic. I, however, have flown a decent amount (home, back to Denver, west coast, back to Denver, etc) and as of last night didn’t have any real qualms to speak of. I will repeat… As of last night.
My Chicago weekend wasn’t exactly last minute, but it did sneak up on me. Yesterday, as I rushed to finish my work, my friend texted me that she was picking someone up from the airport around 6, did I want a ride? Oh. My. Gosh. Yes. I responded. You just made my day.
So, I naively arrived at the airport thinking that things were definitely going my way.
Halfway through security I got one of those airline automated texts. Your flight now departs at 9:03pm. Sorry for the delay.
The guy behind me, who had been taking very loud calls throughout the line, scoffed loudly. Chad, you won’t fu*&ing believe. Flight just got delayed a whole 30 minutes.
Of course his friend’s name is Chad. I thought. And of course “Brad” is on my flight. AND how dramatic?! 30 minutes was totally something I could handle. I texted my friend Anne, who was a little more concerned.
It’s snowing here… She responded. Hopefully it doesn’t get delayed any more.
The rest of security went without issue. It wasn’t until I had plopped down at my gate that the second text rolled through. Your flight now departs at 9:33pm. Great. Time for a beer.
As I was halfway through my Saison, a third text. 10:03pm. Ugh. I had barely updated Anne when I got the 10:43pm. Wow. Over 3 hours until my flight… I could get pretty drunk. I updated the people I had been updating. My mom told me to go home and try again tomorrow. Anne told me that this always happened right before they canceled flights. I decided to give it 30 more minutes.
I was about to order a second beer when my phone buzzed yet again. It’s gonna be canceled, I thought. I just know, it’s gonna be canceled. Through squinted eyes I read the screen. Your flight now departs at 8:30pm. What!?!??
I paid for the single beer and rushed over to my new gate, where I was greeted by many faces mirroring my confusion. Thanks for your patience, everyone. We will start boarding the A group at 8:45pm.
Epilogue: I wanted this story to end on a happy note so included the rest of the trip as a separate thought. Although I did, in fact, get on the plane at around 9pm, we then sat on the tarmac ‘checking engines’ for about 45 minutes. ETA ended up being about an hour later than intended. Then, once we landed in Chicago, the weather had made it so that no planes could leave… meaning there wasn’t a spot for our plane to unload us. We sat on the Chicago tarmac for an hour and 15 minutes. Finally, we got a spot, and I called a (very, very) expensive Lyft. Which canceled on me. My second Lyft came through and I got to Anne’s apartment a little after 2:30am. BUT I did get here! And it’s going to be a great weekend!
