Tuesday's Travel Tirade

Why did I dare to hope for a pleasant trip? Why did I think I'd be able to get any work done this week? Delusional. I was delusional.

I can't say any single thing is to blame: the airline, the weather, my stupidity. But the confluence of these factors created the equivalent of 'the perfect storm'.

To start, I drove the van to the Metro station to take the train to the airport. Mike insisted he could drop me off, but no, I insisted back, that was silly. As I drug my suitcase across the top (read: exposed and snowy) of the Metro parking garage and onto the elevator, a fellow rider asked if I had ever left my car overnight before. "Noooooo," I answered cautiously, "is it not safe?" I imagined my midnight blue Caravan covered with neon graffiti. "No," she replied with a look of pity. "It is against the rules. I just wasn't sure if they enforced them." Panicked, I called Mike. What could we do? He had to take Aly to school and then go work! I didn't have time to take the van back home! He agreed to come after the van later that night. He told me today that the cab driver who took him to the Metro station laughed at him for not seeing the bazillion signs that say "no overnight parking".

I worried all the way to the airport about the van, but even more than Mike might kill me. I sent him an email from my Blackberry that just said "you were right". Soon, though, my thoughts would be otherwise occupied. My American Airlines flight was scheduled for one stop in Raleigh-Durham on the way to Austin, TX. Just before we landed, the pilot broke the bad news to us. Even though we were filling up now, the headwinds were going to reduce our fuel economy from 8 miles/min to 5 miles/min. "We could make it Austin on one tank, but we'd just be getting there on fumes," the pilot explained. "They don't like us to do that." Anyone who initially objected to the extra stop now agreed wholeheartedly. The flight attendant suggested we grab a bite to eat, since we would not be deplaning in Baton Rouge. Unfortunately, there were only two places to eat and both had long lines. I ended up with a coffee and croissant.

I read my entire Stephen King novel on the flight. Our 15-minute stop for gas turned into more than an hour because the computers wouldn't update. The man next to me, who apparently did not speak English, got his things together and tried to leave the aircraft. All told I spent seven hours in the same seat. What a joy to trek through the terminal after that. I called the hotel from the courtesy phone to inquire about the shuttle. "Just wait by the pole marked #5," I was told. After 25 minutes in below-freezing wind chills, I called the hotel from my cell phone to ask about the shuttle schedule. "Oh, we dispatch it any time someone calls. Are you at the airport now?" Yes, and I called 25 minutes ago. Within two minutes the van arrived to pick up me and the gentleman who had just arrived. The van driver apologized. He had never been told of my call, but no fear. The hotel was only two minutes away.

I touched base with my teammates, who were in meetings all day. I indicated I might faint from hunger. They wouldn't be returning for at least two hours and encouraged me to eat without them. The van driver had waxed poetic about the hotel restaurant, so down to the lobby I went. Unfortunately, the restaurant was an hour from opening. I ate nachos at the bar.

By now, I just wanted to go to bed. Two episodes of COPS didn't even cheer me up. I decided to forget all those emails lurking and go to bed. I set the alarm in the room and on my Blackberry for 6:45 since we were leaving at 8:15. 8:15?? Central or Eastern?