I Could Not Get Out of Dodge: A Tragicomedy

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I was going to write a one act play in scenes about what happened to me this weekend. Or some kind of snarky rant that would hopefully have you laughing and saying to yourself, “My, but she’s a clever girl.” But I don’t have the energy for it and I’m not interested in spending an inordinate amount of time explaining something I’d rather forget. Here’s what I can manage:

10:50 am Saturday morning

I arrive at the Indianapolis airport for my FIRST EVER AND THE LIKELY ONLY solo trip THIS YEAR away from Sweet Cheeks and Pitter. I am flying into Newark, and I am to join my good college friends for a baby shower. I have not seen these women for at least a year. I will join one of my best friends in New Jersey that afternoon and we will spend the rest of the day and the next morning catching up. We’ll go to the surprise baby shower at 1 pm Sunday, and then have another evening together until we part ways Monday morning. This is the plan.

Upon arrival, I am told that because I am the *LAST* person to check in for my flight, which is no due to depart for another hour and 10 minutes, I am in line to be bumped, because the flight is oversold.

12pm

I am bumped from my flight. But wait! I am given a $500 voucher for my trouble. And, there is a 2 pm flight on which I can go standby, as it too is full. But wait! Weather conditions in New York are awful and that flight is already delayed an hour and a half and I will have to wait until at least 3:30 to find out if I can even get on the flight. If I do not make this flight, I will not make the shower.

It is Spring Break and hoards of fake-bake-tanned college students have swarmed the airport and ALL FLIGHTS, EVEN THOSE TO MARS are completely booked. Not even on another airline is there a seat for me to New York except for 4pm the next day. Too late.

1:30 pm

I am already running out of snacks.

A team of snotty twenty-one year olds donning boat shoes and shorts (it is 30 degrees in Indianapolis) greets their Super Cool Professor, who is sitting two seats away from me. Super Cool Professor, who is on his way to Tel Aviv for a conference peppers his old students with a series of good-old-boy-style questions about their upcoming adventures in the Florida swamps. A sample:

Now who’s got the condoms?

So what’s the system? Have you worked it out? You know, one knot in the sock on the door-handle means “one hour” instead of all night…

So long, fellahs! Do you need any antibiotics? For the VDs? Ha ha.

2pm

I take a walk down to the Smoothie King for something tropical to ease my woes. But when I order, I am denied a Caribbean Breeze. I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re out of papaya juice. I’m not even allowed to purchase props to help me pretend that I am somewhere else.

3pm

My name is called over the loudspeaker and I am officially given a seat on the flight. Horrah! But wait! Newark airport is in lockdown: No flights in or out. The flight is now delayed until at least 6 or 7 pm. Have I mentioned that I have no media with me, and the one book I brought is of no particular interest?

Also, the flight I was bumped from was diverted to Dulles because it didn’t get to Newark before it was shut down. I feel somewhat lucky.

4 pm

A gaggle of college girls wearing short shorts and tank tops prances up to another gaggle of seated friends. One girl lifts her shirt to show a completely flat stomach and pats her tummy while making a face. Ohmigod! She is sooo fat to go lie on a beach tomorrow! But she’s been doing lots of situps. And her friend bought a new dress for the trip. But it’s like, so cute, she thinks it might be too cute to wear out. You know, because it’s soooo cute.

Um, what?

5-7 pm

I now have a series of questions:

1. Is it really worth the price break to haul a souvenir bushel of oranges from Florida to Indianapolis? The last time I checked, they sell them at Marsh too.

2. What exactly drives a family of five to wear matching red caps and T-shirts with the Dr. Suess saying “Thing 1″ or “Thing 2″ on them in big white circles? Is there some tragedy that may befall me that would cause me to make a similar decision? Is this airport experience a step in that direction?

3. Did the woman wearing the mu-mu-sized nearly-fluorescent lime green shirt choose the nearly exact matching color of her paper bag, of was it a cooincidence? If not, why did the salesperson not do something to avoid this complete and total assault on the retinas of the good people?

4. Would it be grounds for divorce if used my $500 voucher for a solo trip to Paris or Hawaii in the next month? What if it was just for a couple of days?

7 pm

There is no further information about our flight status from Newark. Our flight is no longer on the electronic board, but Sweet Cheeks tells me it’s listed with an 8:50 departure time online.

I decide, for the first time all day, to go back through security to the larger food court, where I treat myself to a proper Au bon Pain tuna sandwich and cup of soup. The good news is that the sandwich tastes as delicious as it did where it was a favorite in Boston. The bad news is that I have been at the airport for 8 hours and I am getting so tired I’m dizzy.

7:45 pm

For the second time in one day, TSA pulls me aside to do a bomb-sweep of my breast pump after it goes through the x-ray machine. I have my first pleasant airport conversation of the day with the female agent, who asks, with genuine interest, questions about pumping and breastfeeding in general.

8:15 pm

The airport is deserted but for our pitiful flight. All of the horny students are already on their fourth jello shots in Fort Lauderdale.

The captain boards the plane because he feels departure is fairly imminent and he wants to be ready the second we have the go-ahead.

8:45 pm

Still at the gate, the flight attendant announces that Newark has given us a new departure time of 10:07.

I watch a man get up and leave the plane. Apparently he will not make his connecting flight.

My gut starts talking very loudly to me. LEAVE THIS PLANE WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE OPTION TO DO SO. I wrestle with enormous guilt and frustration. I have been waiting so long and if I don’t go now, it’s all for nothing. And my friend has been waiting all afternoon for me in a hotel in New Jersey and I won’t get to spend any time with her at all if I don’t suck it up. But I am so tired.

At best, I will arrive in Newark at midnight, and will then have to deal with a rental car, assuming there is a car for me anymore, and then must drive half an hour in potentially nasty weather to that hotel.

All the emotion I have suppressed all day swells and I know that I have to leave. If we are delayed even an hour past 10 pm, which is more likely that not, I will not be able to handle the fallout. I am usually in bed by 9 pm. I have been up since 6:30. Pregnant people cannot pull all-nighters.

I leave the plane, am refunded my ticket in full, and scream and cry when I get to the car.

10:45 pm Saturday night

When I get home, Sweet Cheeks is of course sad about the outcome of my day, but happy that I am back.

The next morning, I discover that after finally leaving the gate at 11 pm (two hours after I bailed), my flight returned to the airport and did not take off until 1 in the morning. Had I stayed on the flight, I would have arrived at the hotel around 4 am, which actually meant 5 am with daylight saving time kicking in.

The flight I was originally on got into Newark at 6 pm that same day.

The lesson? I suppose, don’t be the last person to check in at the airport. Also, mothers are not physically allowed to get out of dodge.

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Filed under Indy, travels, woe is me