For the first time in a number of years, I found myself sitting alone in an airport. It was bewildering to think that mere minutes before I had embraced Zach, said farewell, and, with the simple act of walking through a security gate, faced an around-the-world journey as a lone traveler.
I actually had to take care of my own passport.
Connections were to be tight, with no more than an hour in Shenzhen and an hour and a half in Beijing. I was tense about the Beijing transition for my bags were not checked through to Houston (for some mysterious reason that could never be conveyed without revealing secrets of the people's republic.) Luckily, rain showers were on my side and a delayed flight meant we sat in an aluminum tube while lightning and monsoon rains battered the outside world.
On a half empty flight, I was seated beside the one cantankerous dude who would not claim a row of seats for himself. Moving was not an option for me as my requested vegetarian meal is linked with the seat number and I have learned that moving creates a chaotic disaster with hunger as the end result. When I tried to discuss the profound situation that so many aisles were empty, he vehemently denied knowledge of any mutual language we could communicate with (though him watching Chinese movies throughout the flight seemed to counteract this claim.) When it became apparent he was bound and determined to stay put, I boldly declared in English and Chinese that I got up a lot during flights so he should be prepared. Later, when I frequently moved about the cabin, I think he finally understood that he had been a bit stupid in his determined stance.
Customs in Houston was a breeze, so much so that even after a 14 hour flight, I had a spring to my step and a smile on my face. Of course, my internal dialogue was on a loop recording of, "What is going to go wrong? Something has to go wrong. When will it go wrong?"
The wrong began with a scan of my bag in the baggage transfer area. A beep. One whiny beep began my quest and eventual acceptance of the Triple Crown Travel Award.
My flight was cancelled.
In all my years of travel, I have never had a cancelled flight. Delayed, yes. Cancelled, no.
I faced the United counter agent, bewildered. She was equally bewildered as she seemed unaware that international arrivals usually continue on to another destination.
She began to fill in the backstory for my plight, a tale of a perfect storm. A tropical storm decided to swerve, hit Houston, ground flights and set a horrific domino effect of delayed and canceled flights. The problem was compounded by the fact that in an effort to alleviate potential issues with their impending doom, Dallas had diverted flights to Houston. Therefore, with a swerve of a storm, hell broke lose in Houston.
The United counter agent sweetly remarked that she could get me to Jacksonville by Friday evening. Standing in an airport on a Wednesday afternoon, that offer was not acceptable. Especially considering the entire purpose of the trip was to see my sister become a bride on Friday afternoon. She finagled, typed a lot, talked with a supervisor and eventually booked me on a flight leaving at 7:30pm to Jacksonville via Atlanta. I said thanks, walked up the stairs, stopped to look at the gate screen and promptly said an expletive phrase. In the three minutes to get from level one to level two, my flight was delayed to 9:30pm, thus ensuring my connecting flight in Atlanta was impossible.
I queued alongside many unhappy souls in the terminal waiting area. When I reached the worker, I displayed my boarding passes. With a few clicks and clacks of a keyboard, she exclaimed, "These were just issued!"
I smiled.
"You just came from China!"
"Yes, I know. Can I get to Jacksonville tonight?"
"Well, probably not. But you need to get out of Houston. It is a mess here. I will reserve you a seat on a 7am flight to Jacksonville from Atlanta."
"Are you sure I will get out of Houston tonight? I don't need to get a hotel?"
"No, you will get out. I could give you a hotel, but this is a mess. We are trying to get everyone out tonight that we can. Get out."
I walked away, with another boarding pass and a sense of impending doom.
I drowned my travel woes in a chai tea latte and bagel while sitting in the hall of the terminal.
Nine thirty became ten.
Ten became ten fifteen.
Continual affirmations that an aircraft was on its way and we would depart were filtered throughout the terminal.
Ten fifteen became ten thirty.
One passenger remarked that our crew would time out. Those around audibly groaned at the thought that could even happen.
Eleven o'clock, we started to board. Within ten minutes, I heard cussing, yelling and screams from within the gangplank. Those of us standing within the terminal froze, fell silent, and eventually heard the yells of, "What the hell do you mean the crew timed out?!"
United had made a horrific mistake resulting in an entire flight to be grounded. Apologies were conveyed repeatedly. The sentiments did not soothe the seething anger especially as they directed us to stand in the customer service line that was as long as the terminal. Flights were continuing to land and transferring passengers were continually joining the fray.
A United worker walked the line handing out cards for their call-in service, declaring that they would help faster than the agents working the actual counter. When she reached me, I said, "I don't have a phone."
"What?"
"I don't have a phone. I live in China," I said.
She stood stunned for a moment, looked around and then said, "Follow me."
She escorted me to another counter around the corner where three agents were laughing and having a merry time. I walked to the counter and one woman finally acknowledged me and said, "You can call this number."
By this time, my niceness was wearing thin.
"I do not have a phone. I live in China. I have been traveling for 28 hours and your company is doing a shitty job of handling this disaster. Now, can you get me to Jacksonville."
"Well, I was suppose to go home at ten, but I am having to stay here and help with this mess."
"Ma'am, when you finally leave, you will be able to shower, eat and sleep in a bed. Thanks to United's mistake, I am stuck in an airport. No shower. No bed. No food. Now, do you want to give me the keys to your car so I can get some sleep and you can face a night on a floor of an airport?"
She quickly turned to her keyboard and began the task of finding a flight for me.
"I can get you to Savannah tomorrow, leaving Houston at 1:30pm."
"Book it."
I walked away as a horde of stranded travelers were herded their direction. Apparently, one of the other agents thought three agents behind a desk, giggling, and not helping the situation was reflecting poorly on their dedication to stranded passengers.
I spent the next thirty minutes, texting with Zach and looking in vain for a night's accommodation. By this time, it was 1:30am.
I walked into the bathroom, locked the stall door, leaned against it and had a pity cry. I was tired. I was frustrated. I was alone.
After a few minutes, I wiped my eyes and donned my big girl pants, leaving the bathroom in search of a soft section of floor.
In all my years of travel, I have never had to sleep in an airport.
It is eerie.
No workers.
No security.
Music blaring and lights on full glow.
It was a long night of laying, roving, commiserating quietly with others found in the same plight. Overall, I would say I spent an evening alongside four hundred souls who desperately wanted to be somewhere else besides Houston airport.
At 5am, light seeped over the horizon. I sat staring out the large plate glass windows as multiple United jets landed. It seemed the troops had been rallied and someone had finally decided extra airplanes were necessary to combat the debacle that laid inside.
It was a long morning. Every so often, someone would strike up a conversation and exclaim disbelief that my journey was taking so long. One man walked by, stopped and said, "You look tired."
I smiled. "Sir, I flew from China and this is a never ending journey."
He grimaced then patted my shoulder in one of the kindest gestures one could receive.
By 4:30pm, I landed in Savannah.
Weeks previous to this journey, one of my mom's coworkers and her husband (who live in Jacksonville) had planned to pick me up from the Jacksonville airport. I was to spend the night with them, then we would journey the following day to Fripp Island to join in the wedding festivities. It was a great plan, one that I was greatly anticipating. Throughout the Houston fiasco, I had been texting Diane with updates, who was gracious to text back with encouragement and promises to pick me up wherever I may land on the eastern seaboard.
I walked out into the lobby, greeted with a smile and a hug. I looked at Diane and said, "My bag will be lost."
She was so kind, encouraging and shocked that such a thing could happen.
Twenty minutes later, she was not so kind as an empty conveyor belt confirmed my suspicions and a delivery worker retorted "good luck" when we asked where I needed to file a claim for lost baggage. Diane became mother bear, to which I am eternally grateful for as I was just too tired to care at that point. Externally, I may have appeared to be together, but my internal dialog was looping with, "I want to lay my head down on that counter. I want to lay my head down on that counter."
United worker, JoAnne, made some phone calls, took Diane's number and assured us that she would track down my bag.
My first stop in America, post airport was an Old Navy outlet. First time I have ever shopped and not looked at price tags. I knew that the likelihood of me actually getting my bag was slim, so three sets of clothes were to be my wardrobe for the foreseeable future.
The drive to Fripp Island was enjoyable; the immediate freedom from buildings and planes is bliss.
After a quick shower and wardrobe change, I found myself in my mom's embrace surrounded by exclamations of, "That was one hell of a trip."
There is nothing like a good story to tell at a rehearsal dinner as you meet people for the first time. All seemed to agree that I had earned my Triple Crown Travel Award fairly.
