8 August 98 The travel woes continue. I didn't finish my work in Chicago until after 5, and although I probably had enough time to go somewhere out of the way and chow down one last vegan meal before I had to catch my 8:20 flight, I didn't feel like risking it. I especially did not want to get stuck in some nasty traffic jam in the pouring rain as 8:20 approached. I did not need the additional stress.

Getting to O'Hare was fairly painless, for a change. Returning the rental car went smoothly, once I got someone to recognize that yes, despite my youthful looks and the teddy bear, I was old enough to rent a car and was indeed returning one. Grrr. By 7:15 I was checked in, and my flight was still listed as being on time. Cool. I grabbed a Coke and a Super Pretzel, one of the few vegan options in the gate area and waited for my flight to be called.

7:40 pm CDT (or thereabout. I am not that anal.) -I notice that the sign at my gate doesn't read Flight #528 to Boston, but rather something to Washington, National at 8:15. Now, I have more than two brain cells to rub together, but even if I didn't, I could still figure out that there was no way my 8:20 flight and this 8:15 would be leaving on time from this gate. I lugged Pierre and my backpack down to the departure monitors to see if my flight was delayed or if the gate was switched. Nope. Hmmm. OK, maybe they're a little slow. I'm not going to sweat it.

Five minutes is long enough not to sweat it, so I check the monitor again. Still says both planes are leaving from the same gate within five minutes. THIS IS PHYISICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!!!! WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE DO HIS JOB AND UPDATE THE DEPARTURE LIST?!?!?! Now, I have no desire to be like the asshole on this delayed flight I took from Raliegh/Durham to Boston a few months back, who, when the captain apologized for the delay caused by baggage loading problems and weather, saying it was in part their fault, strangled the armrests, clenched his jaw and seethed, "You're right it's your fault. It's all your fault," under his breath, (He was right across the aisle from me, and you'd better believe that I let him out first) but I admit to being more than a bit annoyed. I've been away from home all but 11 hours in the past two weeks, I haven't had a good sleep in three, work and travel have been frustrating, I'm hungry and I just want to go home and eat some Tater Tots. I JUST WANT TO GO HOME HOME, SLEEP IN MY OWN BED AND WATCH A TV THAT HAS MORE THAN EIGHT CHANNELS! IS THIS SO WRONG?!?! Now, I'm not a complete asshole; I know there are going to be flight delays, particularly when the weather is bad, but what frosts my cookies is getting wrong information, and this info is clearly wrong.

Things don't get any better when the counter chick gets on the PA and says, "For those of you in the gate area waiting for Flight 528 to Boston and are noticing that the sign says Flight XYZ 6:30 to Wasnington National, we don't know what's going on either." Well, that's nice to know. A short while later, she says the 6:30 to DC will board at 8:15 and when it's s gone, the Boston flight will board, once the plane is on the ground. Now, don't you think they could have posted that the flight was going be delyed a little earlier? It's like 8pm by this time, and that flight wasn't coming from Midway. Grrrrrrr. I believe that the flight was coming from Boston, so if it wasn't taking off around the time I checked in, it wasn't going to show up on time. Whatever.

I lose myself in a good book, and when I look up at around 9:15 I notice that the sign above gate B3 is for my flight, departing at 9:30. You think it would have killed someone at B2 to announce this? I can't get too jacked, though, because the end is near, and besides, I'm running on a bag of Tostitos, some Tater Tots and a Super Pretzel, so I don't have a lot of energy to burn. (Yeah, I know what you're thinking. "What a bitch she must be when she's getting three squares a day.")

We begin boarding the plane and by 10 everyone is on and seated, and the doors are closed. At 10:30 were are still at the gate. The captain finally tells us that some light indicates that the forward cargo door is open, even though the mechanic says it isn't. They'll have to fill out some paperwork before we can go. About 10 minutes later, we head out to the runway. When we are two planes from the front, the captain gets back on the PA and tells us we have to head back to the gate. No reason was given. We book it, and I mean book it down the runway on our way back to the gate. I have never been in a plane that taxied that fast. It was almost like we were taking off! When we got back to the gate, they took a passenger off the flight. I don't know why they did this, but I heard the flight attendant say something about the dude being on the wrong flight. I hope he needed to be somewhere to donate a kidney or something. We finally take off a short while later, landing in Boston around 2am. A miracle occurred, and my bag was one of the first ones off, so I was able to get a cab before the big ass line formed. After a brief stop at Star Market to get some pasta sauce, Tater Tots and Tabasco (which my old roommate mistakenly took with her when she moved, much to my chagrin when I wanted to dip my tots in them late one night), I arrived home. Mercifully, it hadn't burned down to the ground or been burglarized.

Maybe my next trip won't be so bad.