Flying fiasco: Part 2

Flying Fiasco: Part 2

JFK

JFK is one airport I have never had a layover at, oddly enough. I’ve been to Dallas many, many times, Chicago, Minneapolis, Denver, and New Jersey, but never JFK. I was kind of excited before I left. At 1:30am, not too much is appealing but sleeping in a bed. I had found my gate and was about to try to sleep when I realized I had a voicemail from my mom: my connecting flight was…cancelled.

Kinks in my flight plans like this often throw kinks in my mood and stress level, particularly at 1:30am. I trudged over to the ticket counter, along with about 20 other people and waited…and waited…and waited. The girl in front of me had been stuck in JFK for 2 days. And up goes my stress level. I just wanted to get home. I was so close, so very close to home. My mom had suggested that if I couldn’t get a flight out until later Saturday afternoon or evening, I take a taxi to the train station. Hmmm an option, but one I wasn’t entirely willing to entertain at that moment. I was frustrated, exhausted, irritated, and tired. I just want to go home. The lady that helped me was very nice. The next flight would be at 9:30 BUT, of course there was a but, I had to go to the other airport: La Guardia. Ok, so let me get this straight. My flight leaves much later than my cancelled one, I have to get to another airport, and I can’t leave to get there until 6am. Oh and P.S. I still have to go pick up my body bag of a suitcase. Greeeeat. So, I booked the flight, called my mom, told her I was not taking the train (she agreed), and went to pick up my bag.

The baggage claim is not actually in the airport but outside and down an elevator. I had forgotten how frigid wet, cold air is. Utah-dry, cold air-is bad, but COLD air is painful. I got my bag, luckily right before they were collecting the unclaimed bags. It was 2:30am. I couldn’t go back into the airport so I settled in a chair and tried to sleep. It was awful: loud, cold drafts, and horribly uncomfortable. I dozed, hardly. It was terrible. Finally at 6am I decided to get up and go figure out how I was getting to La Guardia. Bus or taxi? Well I first opted for the bus (cheaper). I stood outside shaking, borderline convulsing because I was so cold. A man came over to charge me for the bus but I never carry cash with me so I had to go to the ATM. The way to the ATM was at the other terminal, down a long, scary, and tiny walkway right next to all the traffic. As I was walking (with my carry-on and “body bag”) a guy in a shuttle bus pulled over to make sure I was ok and to suggest the bus or the taxi. Ok, that’s it. I’m taking a taxi. So I walked back (my muscles were very weak at this point having not slept or eaten in a while), hoping the bus guy who told me where the ATM was wouldn’t see me because I didn’t even bother to find the ATM. So, I stood outside contemplating trying to find an ATM or just bite the bullet and take a taxi. I didn’t bother asking anyone else. People at that airport just were not very pleasant. So I walked over to the taxis. The guy was so pleasant and ushered me into a taxi right away!

Flying fiasco: Part 1

Flying Fiasco: Part 1

Before I begin, allow me to warn you that this is probably going to be a lengthy post. In fact, I’ll probably break it up just to add some spice to my grand adventure. Also, let me dedicate this post to Britton because I didn’t get to do much people watching. I think you’ll find this a little more entertaining….

With ice storms and snow slamming New England, the northeast in general, and a lovely (sarcasm) blizzard whiting out I-15 and Salt Lake City, I knew something was bound to go wrong. It’s also the big holiday traveling rush to get home. Each year, either going home or coming back something happens. This year was by far the most…interesting.

Salt Lake City

Shawna drove me to the airport. Before dropping me off we decided to pay a visit to one of our best friends, Jenna, her husband Sam, and their cat. It was a great visit, short but wonderful. We sipped hot chocolate and chit-chatted. I was so very happy. My flight was scheduled to leave at 4:55pm and after seeing that it was 3:30pm, we decided to head out, even though we weren’t very far from the airport. Off we went into the blizzard. I’ve not seen snow like that in Utah ever I think. Go figure. Can I just say this: LEARN TO THE PLOW YOUR ROADS UTAH!!!! I mean seriously. I swear they wait until an hour has gone by and then they decide to bust out the plows, but the plows only do the dingy side roads first. Forget the interstate. Are you kidding me??? I was not happy about this. I don’t mean to be a snob, but New Englanders know who to deal with bad weather. If there is even talk of snow, the plows are out for as long as it takes to ensure the roads are safe. NOT in Utah. I’ve been spoiled and therefore have high standards when it comes to taking care of roads, but especially interstates!!!! For goodness sakes! My blood starts to boil in the winter in Utah. However, I was driving with Shawna and truthfully, I am never afraid when she is driving. I don’t really know why but even though her windshield wipers weren’t performing very well, we couldn’t see the lane, and there was tons of snow and slush everywhere, I felt fine. Except, we were cutting it close timewise. Luckily, my flight was delayed 45 minutes. We got the airport (and their roads were beautifully plowed. Nice, nice guys. Plow the airport but not the way INTO the airport—that makes sense…). Check in was fine. Security was fine. Got hit on by the guy checking my boarding pass and I.D. *eye roll* He apparently couldn’t decide which he liked better: my face in person or my driver’s license. Oy.

My flight ended up not leaving until about 7:30. I didn’t really care. Why? I had a 7-8 hour layover in JFK to look forward to so by all means, take as long as needed. Plus, I got to people watch. SO fun! I like to make up stories about the people too. It was a good time. I was so tired though. Maybe it was the stress of worrying about missing my flight. The flight was ok. I slept the first hour (through take off!!!! That never happens!!!). Then I realized that I had a wide selection of movies and tv shows that I could watch. I watched House (love that show!), The Office, and started The Hulk but then got sick of watching tv. Also can I go on another tangent and say there was a very young boy (13, maybe 14; he looked like he was beginning that awkward teenage stage) who was watching a vile movie in front of me. I unfortunately happened to glance at the screen during a very disturbing scene and was outraged that he was watching such a movie with his parents sitting across the isle and his younger brother and sister on either side of him (by younger I mean probably between 6 and 9). I was mad that I, the 21-year-old, saw the scene but to have him and his siblings see it. Oh I wanted to throw up.

I sat next to a man who has a place in Park City and splits his time between Utah and Connecticut. Seemed like a nice man…until we landed. He was so impatient. I have long since learned that getting impatient while flying gets absolutely nothing accomplished. You have no control over it so why get mad? Plus it’s not like it’s the pilot’s fault he was following protocol waiting for someone at the airport to do something geez. Anyways, I got annoyed by the man real quick. His constant sighing, pacing, fidgeting, etc. Relax!!! It’s 1 in the morning; we’re all tired! At least you don’t have to wait for another 6 hours for your connecting flight.

Or so I thought…