http://www.tripso.com/archives/2006/06/ ... umber.html
“You are number 165 for takeoffâ€
How many times have I told readers not to book a connecting flight through Chicago’s O’Hare Airport on a Friday afternoon in thunderstorm season? And yet, here I was, trying to make it home in time for my wife’s very first Mother’s Day. To make matters worse, I was flying standby. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. Well, it wasn’t.
My flight into Chicago was an hour late but I wasn’t worried: I had left two hours for my connection. There was another airplane at our gate, so we had to wait 20 minutes on the taxiway. At the gate, the Jetway malfunctioned and it took an agonizing half hour to free us. I had to act fast if I had any hope of making my connection. When the sky began to darken, I knew a thunderstorm would end my quest to get home on time.
Of course, I was let out at what seemed to be Terminal Z and I had to get to Terminal B in just under 14 minutes. I pulled what used to be called an OJ and started running at full speed through the terminals. All dignity and self-respect was lost in the process, but I had a mission, and failure was not an option.
I got to my gate just in time to see the airplane push back. Just my luck: The one flight to leave O’Hare on time was the one I needed to be on. I bent over, tried to catch my breath and did the only useful thing in this situation: I laughed, composed myself, found the nearest bar and sat down to wait three hours for the next flight.
Sure, I was frustrated, but a good beer and a properly positioned seat provided one of the best human shows I can think of, and the hours slipped quickly by. I boarded my flight and gave a silent prayer that I would get home without any more hassles. Unfortunately, I was wedged into a middle seat with an oversized man on one side and loudmouth on the other. The skies were pitch black by then, allowing the occasional lightning bolt to emblazon my plight. For, as we all know, Lightning + Chicago = Severe Travel Delays.
So there I sat for another two hours, with no reading or writing materials, no earplugs and a heavy heart knowing that Mother’s Day was now but a slim possibility. We pushed back from the gate, but as I listened to Air Traffic Control I realized that we weren’t going anywhere. Everything going east was shut down, and everything coming into O’Hare was restricted to one runway. Two and a half hours into our taxi, we had to go back for more fuel and then rejoin the line. That was when I heard the most incredible statement I have ever heard from Air Traffic Control:
“You are currently Number 165 for takeoff.â€
The world’s busiest airport was actually running out of pavement to accommodate the aircraft load.
The word from the flight attendants was that the flight would probably return to the gate and be canceled, which for a standby meant the end of the road. I closed my eyes, went to my happy place and fell fast asleep. Four hours later, at 3:45 in the morning, I awoke to see the other passengers deplaning. To my complete surprise, I found I was not in Chicago but at my home airport. I had slept through the takeoff, the flight and the landing but all that mattered was that I was home. I was a lucky man, after all, for our flight was apparently the last to leave O’Hare before another round of thunderstorms closed the airport for the rest of the evening.
From this experience I have learned a few tips to pass on to you:
1.
Try, try, try. Even if you think there’s little chance of making the connection, always give it a shot. Sometimes the flight is delayed and — who knows? — you could get lucky. One lucky break could save you 15 hours of misery.
2.
Be considerate. When you see someone running madly through the terminal, remember the times you’ve been late for a flight. Give the runner some room and maybe a word of encouragement.
3.
Be considerate, too. If you are the one running for the flight, remember that you are not the only person in the airport on a schedule. You can’t run people down, so run nimbly.
4.
Regroup. If all does not go as expected, regroup and plan an alternate course of action. Call customer service and see if an agent can help you find a new route. Keep thinking of options, and remember that the shortest distance between two points is not always the best route.
5.
Pass on the agony. OK, so you’ve missed your flight and have three hours to wait for the next one. What do you do next? Sit at the gate and fume? No, brush it off and go do something you enjoy. Have a beer with a stranger, get a massage or go shopping for a new book.
6.
Fight the temptation. Misery loves company, but if you join the constant complainers in their little bitch fest, it will just put you in a worse frame of mind.
7.
Bring a backup snack. A bag of trail mix once saved my life. It kept me from eating my seat cushion, and we all know where that’s been.
8.
Entertain yourself. Bring whatever form of entertainment you like best every time you fly (book, computer, MP3 player, earplugs — whatever works for you). I knew better and still was caught empty-handed.
I pulled into my driveway at 5 o’clock in the morning on Mother’s Day. I managed to bring the new mother her breakfast in bed and later have an extended family nap in the hammock. It was the best Mother’s Day a father could hope for.
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