Languishing at JFK

Last Edit February 13, 1999

Janice delivered me, my bags, my newly acquired pattern and fabric for a new Regency gown, and the rose I got from Fabio to the airport on time.
The plane, however, was not.
I was glad I was not fully dressed having left panty hose and body suit off (under slacks and a ski jacket who can tell).
By 10:25PM we were just boarding a flight that should have left at 9:10PM.
Kiss off the connection.
Kiss off seeing my kid before this evening.
Hope he made it to school this morning. Hope he makes it to school tomorrow since I won't be there. I was supposed to be home by 2AM.
Not likely.
By 10:30 they are banging luggage doors shut.
Passengers are testy.
As well we should be.
First they told us "the flight MAY be late but come on-time".
When I got there they told me "You're booked on a back-up flight at 8AM tomorrow morning if you miss your connection."
Just in case.
Good thing.
I don't think everyone got that.
When I asked about waiting, they said they'd take care of me in Las Vegas. Voucher for a hotel.
Hmmmm.
I am already three sheets to the wind. I wait.
I know I don't have enough Medifast and that I am running low on blood sugar or something because I am light headed and almost fainted at Janice's house.
So I get a tune sandwich (last one in the deli) no mayo, no bread, cole slaw and pickle. And a small diet soda.
And I wait.
First it's 30 minutes.
Then it's 60.
Passengers don't have seat numbers (I do). The plane is overbooked. Many of them are these days.
American on "strike" or whatever they want to call it has not helped.
Now I hear 90 minutes.
Something is mumbled about a storm in the midwest delaying flights.
Now they tell me that "since it's the weather, no voucher."
Great.
I like sleeping on the floor of an airport. It's my favorite ambition.
Actually, been there, done that, no thanks.
Other passengers have not been booked on back-up flights.
Meetings, a wedding and vacations get keel-hauled.
I am not overly concerned. 8AM puts me in SFO at 9:30AM, home by 11-11:30 and back at work at 1PM? Maybe.
I'll have to work on Monday to make up.
I have too much to do.
I am down to one Medifast due to the exploding nature of these packets.
My diet will be derailed.
I regret for a time not bringing the small rolling suitcase.
Oh well.
Now, at last on the plane at 10:30PM, the flight attendant comments on the rose.
I tell her it's from Fabio.
She's a fan.
Shows me his picture in her date book. Laments he is not doing calendars.
I give her the address for the website and run down his activities of late.
Another attendant announces glibly over the speakers, "Want to smoke? $3,000 fine." Out of the blue.
Gets a laugh.
The overbooking voucher bit has reached ridiculous stages.
The "take a later flight for $200" has escalated. Now they are one over and offer $500. I am tempted.
But young man volunteers - and gets a round of applause and shouts of "hold out for more!".
I am next to a family from Manchester, England flying on vouchers valued at $2,000. They had been going to Florida. Now they are going to Las Vegas. I suggest San Diego. The girls are very young. The flight to Florida had been on American. 900 flights canceled. No Florida.
It is common for airlines to overbook. Why you should get in early.
I remember that the flight out of Phoenix was three hours late - the one that I flew on while half conscious from the incarcerated hernia. The trip that nearly killed me. Literally.
The next work-related trip is coming up in March.
With connecting flights.
I am now leary of non-direct flights.
By 10:50 we are finally rolling backward from the gate. 1 Hour, 40 min. late.
The flight attendant stumbles through the safety spiel. She is also tired.
While we waited for the plane, the flight crew had waited with us.
Now she tells us "not to muck around" with the smoke detectors. And says again you'll be fined $3,000 for doing things you aren't supposed to do.
We taxi. 1 Hour, 45 minutes off schedule.
I am in the rearmost seat- the row that does not lean back.
I have never flown America West before.
May never fly it again.
Now they tell us that we will be "experiencing turbulence" two hours into the flight. We have this to look forward to.
Oh good!
I need to hear that!
I am sooo glad I am bra-less and panty-hose less.
Comfort is going to be a big factor in surviving this flight.
At least I am near the rest room.
One good thing, we all (those of us over 21 at least - and I qualify) will receive a free drink.
Red wine or champagne.
Doctor says so.
Recommends two a day.
High Cholesterol.
Hereditary.
I think I will indulge.
After today, I deserve it.

+ + +

They are serving a snack in a bag. A bun and a lump of cold ham with a smattering of cheese, a few chips and a snack bar.
My thumb has split from the cold and hurts. I hate it when that happens. But I have to tolerate it throbbing. Just keep salt out of it.
I eat the meat and tuck the rest away. I case I get desperate waiting on my connection later.
One is real testy about her "special diet".
The men are already peeing on the floor in the restroom.
Lovely.
The tail of the plane sways and bucks. A Disney ride. E ticket.
No pun intended.
And we aren't even in turbulence yet!
Wait until these guys have their drink or two!
I donate my pillow to the small child next to me (2? 3?) and help her mother to lift the armrest out of the way so the kid can lay down. As if the sane and sober could rest in this!
The flight attendant fetches her a blanket.

+ + +

I am given two white wines - all that are left. I drink one and the other falls under the seat. That's OK. The worst wine I've tasted. But I need a sedative by now and this is it.
I doze in and out all the way to Vegas. We have the sport of turbulence - more of the same but I only wake up when kicked by the kid or when my tailbone becomes numb enough to demand a different position.
We land only 30 minutes off schedule - they made the rest up.
But my flight is history.
I head for customer service in this Las Vegas land of slot machines.
It is a long line.
My rose is slightly the worse for wear but holding up well. Janice's mother had wrapped it in wet towel and aluminum foil. Neither the rose nor I had set off the alarms.
Not yet anyway.
I finally get to the head of the line.
They give me a ticket (I demand one actually) and they give me a meal voucher and a hotel voucher.
It takes a bit of walking and asking directions three times to find level 0 and the Days Inn shuttle. It is cold in Las Vegas.
Las Vegas I am used to being hot. You forget how fast it can cool off when the sun goes down.
I stumble into the lobby and request a phone be turned on.
I get to my room and my son does not answer the collect call attempt. It is 2:30AM. I figure he is asleep - I should be.
But I am dirty and ache.
I note that in Vegas they recommend showers.
So the tub has no stopper.
But I have wash cloths and I make do.
The water is hard but hot.
The TV shows the rerun of Leno - the one with Fabio - but I have missed his part of it.
It is on as a night light.
I brush my teeth in creative glee after gulping down my Medifast - long overdue.
I have a wake-up call left for 6AM and I crash.
I have the heater turned up. I am warm.
I sleep.