I have good, healthy teeth. It wasn’t until I had my wisdom teeth pulled in my late teens that I understood why so many people dread going to the dentist.
In the same fashion, this past weekend’s flight to my mother in Virginia reminded me why so many people curse the thought of having to fly.
Thursday: My roommate takes me to the airport, where I have an 8:30 a.m. flight to maximize the time I spend with my mother, siblings and niece. We board the plane. Then they tell us there’s a “ground hold” in Atlanta because of the weather, and if they’d only known a few minutes sooner, they could have let us sit in the airport instead of keeping us on the plane for the next hour.
Despite the delay, I made it into Atlanta with just time enough to make my next flight, especially since it’s postponed from 12:10 to 12:40 p.m. Only when I reach the gate, it’s canceled and I’m on a 2:40 flight.
A little after two, when the preceding backed-up flight gets off the ground, the attendant (who was holding up well given the circumstances) tells me that yes, I’m confirmed for the flight. Only it’s now 30 minutes away and we’re not starting to board … Sometime after 2:30 p.m., they inform us they’re having trouble locating the flight crew … And about 3:30 p.m., we finally board.
Flight home Sunday: I arrive in plenty of time for the still-on-time 5:15 p.m. flight back to Atlanta. Only about 4:45 they inform us that yes, there’s bad weather in Atlanta and we’re postponed until 7 p.m. Once more, I sit and wait (fortunately, I always have a book with me).
8:30 p.m., we arrive in what’s now a sunny Atlanta — and my 8:47 flight has been pushed back to 9:30 p.m. (so long, early bedtime!). And then, once again, we have a flight crew absent, so it was about 10:15 p.m. when they showed up and we could start boarding.
To make matters more annoying, the gate crew announced they would offer meal vouchers while we were waiting. I didn’t move at first since I wasn’t that hungry, then I reflected I could pick up a sandwich, take it in to work Monday, and got in line.
I waited in line.
I reached the desk.
The attendant began to check that I was a real passenger — and after two minutes of that, the flight crew showed up. Oops, sorry, no meal voucher for me!
The final annoyance — which I can’t actually blame on Delta — came when I got home. My roommate had been out of town over the weekend, so when I arrived I found the fire alarm beeping it’s dread Battery Dying, Battery Dying shriek. Even when I pulled it out, it wouldn’t stop, and I knew I couldn’t sleep through it, so off to Food World I went to grab a replacement.
Fortunately the trip in between was fabulous, but that’s a post for another time.
