My parents often talk of "sequences"...that phenomenon where one thing leads to another...
I recently had to fly to Anchorage to help a friend who is very sick. I only had a few days available to take from work, and my return ticket had been booked separately.
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I was scheduled to depart Anchorage at 11:20am on Tuesday-returning to work on Wednesday. I arrived at the airport at 10:00am, checked my one bag through to Medford (I was scheduled one stop in Portland to switch flights). My friend and I checked the "departure" board, and my plane was listed as "delayed until 12:00."
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So, we dared to go grab a coffee from Starbucks before I braved the airport security line...with the keys in containers and shoes on x-ray conveyor belts. I made my way through the checkpoint, and arrived at my terminal gate at 11:25, thinking I had time to spare....
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While in the security line the captain had switched the departure time back to 11:30. They had closed the gate. They were done boarding.
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My super sad face and sniffles did nothing to persuade them. But the airline lady (the same one from "Meet the parents" with the stick thingies in her hair) told me "Don't worry. We have flights departing every half hour to either Seattle or Portland. We will get you there eventually."
So, I was put number 39 on a wait list.
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Every half hour, after waiting hopefully for my name to be called, the airline agent would announce "This flight is full. All stand-by passengers will be rolled over to flight 137, departing at 12:30 from gate C7" We would all pick up our bags and make our way to C7. We would wait, the flight would fill up, and the agent would announce, "All stand-by passengers will be rolled over to flight 342, departing at 1:00 from gate C12." We would all then pick up our bags and make a group run for gate C12-some folks dragging screaming children (or screaming husbands).
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This went on for a number of flights. I made a terrible error of going to have a cigarette with a newfound friend also on the stand-by list. When I went to return we both waited with our boarding passes to go through the security checkpoint again. By this time the security line had been split in two. She took the right. I took the left. I made it to the front of the line, where the security officer looked at my boarding pass for my original flight and said, "This flight has already departed ma'am. I can't let you through. (My friend made it through just fine on her side, and caught the next flight.)
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I explained the missed flight stand-by rollover with repeated running through the C terminal, and he expressed empathy with a pouted lip. Then he said, "You can go to the Alaska Air ticket counter and get another boarding pass. Then I can let you through."
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So I did (after doing a frustrated interpretive dance entitled, "I would rather be twisting my tongue with corroded pliers than talking to you anymore, and I certainly hope you die soon.")
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I waited in line with people checking giant coolers full of fish, prized exotic explosive devices, award winning show dogs, Ulu knives, and a giraffe.
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I got another boarding pass for a 3:00 flight to Seattle.
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I got on the 3:30 flight, seated next to a woman who was reading "How to Live More Biblically."
I got lost in the Seattle airport.
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I finally found an electrical outlet (after disconnecting a coffee cart-because by this time I was angry with Starbucks) to charge my phone. I was put on stand-by for the LAST flight of the evening to Medford. I was number two. If I didn't get on, I would be waiting in the airport until morning.
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Coley was already IN Medford to get me, as we had planned to return that evening. She got a hotel, and I waited at the gate-unwilling to move even in the event of a terrorist attack.
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I got on the Medford flight because somebody didn't show up. I kissed the boarding agent when he asked "Is a middle seat okay?" I told him I would ride on the wing if he wanted me to.
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I arrived in Medford at 11:59am.
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They lost my bag.
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After laughing hysterically and wishing I had a valium, I made it to the hotel with my carry on bag at 2am.
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The next day in Medford broke all heat records, reaching 109 degrees by mid-morning. My little truck came from a more sensible region of the earth, and has no air conditioning. Coley and I re-named Medford "Lava, Oregon."
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I spent some time at the Medford airport locating my bag, which had arrived on the first flight of the day from Portland (which I had never made it to.)
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Coley and I attempted to drive home after purchasing 6 bottles of water.
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In Grant's Pass we realized the water was best utilized by pouring it directly over our heads, which we did repeatedly. In Cave Junction we bought more bottled water to pour on our heads, and an ice-cream from Dairly Queen, which evaporated into vanilla flavored vapor while the worker was attempting to hand it to us from the drive through window.
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We re-named Cave Junction "Face of the Sun, Oregon."
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We drove on ignoring our skin sticking to every surface of the truck interior-until we hit the redwoods.
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Heaven. Sheer, cool, majestic heaven.
I am not sure what the moral of the story is, other than to say that when the airline suggests you arrive two hours early for a flight, go ahead and do that...
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...And that bottled water may cost $1.69 each, but when you are in Lava, Oregon with no air conditioning-expense is not a problem.
