On the way to Las Vegas
My plane karma, you might have noticed, has been very bad lately. The saga continues.
Today has been a rough one, as I had a last minute business trip planned to Philadelphia ON THE DAY that I am flying to Las Vegas for Beth’s bachelorette party. 12 girls, on the loose. I already had my tickets and rebooking them out of Philly would cost 600 bucks. Nope. Way too cheap for that.
As I had only 15 hours til I was going to premier in a bikini, I had to forgo Philly cheese steaks ‘whiz witout’, and had salad. (yuk)
So, I take a car service down to Philly bright and early, have the meeting, with salad, and take the darn car service back to Manhattan, get out of my work clothes, jump into some hoochie clothes fitting of Vegas (I’m going directly out since I get in about 9pm), and go directly to LGA. It’s been a long day of travel and I hadn’t even checked in at the airport yet. But at least I look, er. Good? Well, underdressed, lets say. With a huge fake rock on my finger. I love playing Vegas bond girl.
Well when I get to the airport, my plane is delayed by half an hour, no biggie, but by the time I get through security it is delayed to a degree known in some circles as canceled. So I had to go back out of security, stand in a line of pissed-off New Yorkers, yelling at those oblivious New Yorkers who kept walking directly to the counter ignoring the line. Many New Yorkers cannot ever imagine that their problems aren’t so much worse than the rest of the line, so either oblivious or unbelievably self-centered, the effect was the same, there was almost a bar brawl at the USAir ticket counter.
The ticket counter attendant I spoke with said, “hey, guess what, we can fly you out RIGHT now, as there is a flight going to Columbus Ohio, the connecting to Vegas and if you run like hell you can get to the gate before it takes off in 10 minutes, and you will actually get to Vegas 20 minutes earlier!” Wohoo.
Run run run run , ouch stupid heels, run run. Get out of my way you people, cause if I hit you with this rock on my finger you are goin’ down, Charlie Brown…run run run.
Well, what do you know, I made it. On the flight that is.
It’s a smallish plane 2×2 configuration, which is by far my favorite plane to fly on if you are in coach. And I’m in the second row. Excellent. I accidentally talked to the guy in the first row, upon entering…you know, pleasant commentary, joking about stuffing my bag in the overhead.
He then continued to leer between the seats at me for the first 45 minutes of our stay on the plane. Boy he was obnoxious. When the guy sitting beside me wasn’t looking he would tell me how cute he thought I was. How can he possibly think this was a) appropriate and b) I would be flattered? I mean I sent him every signal once I saw him leering at me, that he was not allowed to pass go, or even look at go. (yuk) No more hoochie clothes on airplanes. Didn’t he see my fake ring? Anyhow, he would NOT relent. And he kept starting ever sentence with “hey LISTEN”. Argh.
You’ll notice I said ‘our stay’ on the plane, not ‘our flight’. Our 5:40 take off finally did happen, at quarter to 12, I believe. This has happened to me two other times, once grounded in Houston for tornados, and another time after landing in a snowstorm at JFK with a closed airport…but I think 6 hours on the runway might be the winner here.
I can only thank the travel companion gods that the guy sitting next to me, Mick, decided to save me from boredom and that ass in the front seat by becoming one of the most interesting persons in world to talk to. Though clearly my travel karma has been bad, thus far (I mean we did sit on the runway for 6 hours), at least my seat mate wasn’t stealing meals from those poor souls stuck at the back of the plane, with no choice for beef or chicken and the distinct smell of bathroom to deal with (which is exactly what happened on my flight back from Argentina). Maybe my karma has turned the corner, a 3 hour turn each way, but it could be a good sign.
Thanks, Mick, if you’re reading this.
Anyhow, my rowmate is an architect, educated, worldly, and has a laptop he doesn’t seem to know how to use. We talk on and off for pretty much the entire wait. Between him, and a hilarious pilot who had known we might have a very long wait, it was not so bad at all. The pilot was determined we were getting to Columbus, and had put enough fuel in the plane to get us to Hawaii, knowing that if we went back to the gate it was all over. He gave us updates every so often about how we were ‘winning’ because people in front of us (we were 50th in line to take off from LGA, but that doesn’t include JFK and EWR who share the same airspace) kept running out of fuel or timing out. We were winning by attrition.
Also, I note, as many of my girlfriends were on teetotaler airlines in the same situation, the USAir crew started handing out beer as soon as the cabin door was closed. I mean, if people can hang out for 6 hours in a dank smelly bar and have fun, why not recreate that? Go USAir. I know for sure my patience level is directly positively correlated to accessible pilots and alcohol consumption.
As you might imagine there was no connection to Vegas to be had until morning. I do hand it to USAir though; when I stepped off the plane they gave me a rebooked ticket, meal voucher and hotel voucher. My hotel room was overlooking a Mcdonald’s drive through (I consider going, but bikini reveal very soon now), and I hit the pillow at 2am out cold, with dreams of cheeseburgers and actually making it to Vegas tomorrow.
Tags: Las Vegas, USA, Tag Index
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