I was trying to be ahead of the game and arrive early on Sunday night, rested, for my work in Atlanta at 8am on Monday morning. Little did I know the events prior to my arrival would be stories to tell my Grandchildren.
I arrive at MCI airport around 5:15, not too early considering my flight leaves, or was supposed to leave, at 5:55. I hop on the shuttle only to be told by the driver that there is a “storm cell” coming towards Kansas City. I think nothing of it and enter the terminal. I print my boarding pass only to be told there are some “issues” with my plane. I’m thinking my plane has had a long week or something but it turns out it’s a mechanical issue. ETD 7:05. Ok, I have an hour to catch up on emails and what not. I find that the wireless in the Delta terminal is similar to the wireless in an Amish community, not existent. I don’t have one of those fancy wireless cards so I resort to reading my book.
By this point the “storm cell” is omnipresent. Imagine a Bob Ross painting of thick clouds and happy little lightning bolts. We board the plane about 7:25 and it seems like we might just do it! We might take-off! “Crrrrrr. This is the Captain speaking, we are experiencing some severe weather and are going to have to wait patiently on the plane until it gets over our heads. Crrrrr.” I realize that our Captain has just told everyone what they already knew and put the fear of God in us all because now we were sitting in a 25,000 pound tube of metal. Hmmmm. Safe? No. Fun? No. This wasn’t going as planned. About an hour passes and we get word that we are going to find an alternate route to Atlanta, one that doesn’t pass through the “storm cell” that just passed us (Thought: Don’t you fly over the clouds anyways?). So we taxi out to the runway and taxi and taxi. Now at this point the lady next to me has taken 3-4 shots from her mysteriously larger than 3 oz. bottle of Hennessey and the gentleman behind me (pushing 90+) has full stomach belched enough times for me to want to put my hand sanitizer in my hair. So I’m ready to get in the air. Ready to fall fast asleep and be awakened in 30 minutes to enjoy some Canadian Spring Sparkling Water and some Biscoff from the turn of the century.
About 45 minutes goes by of taxing and inconsistent Captain communications and we are set to head out. Just 4 short hours later and the National Weather Service / NFA / ASA / MLB / CBS / NAACP, some acronym group, has cleared us for takeoff.
2 hours go by. Long story longer. There is baby’s crying, breastfeeding, Hennessey shots, and old man belching.
I get to the hotel at 2:37 in the morning. I am just going to forget about today and think about tomorrow, oh wait, it is tomorrow. I decide that a shower before bed would relax my mind. I go and turn on the shower and receive not water, but a dentist suction sound coming from the faucet. I call the front desk,
Receptionist: “Um yeah. I’m sorry sir. The technician has turned off the hot water and is working on the water heater, would you like a wakeup call?”
Me: “Yes. Could you just come pour water on me in 3 hours?”
This is going to sound better than 50's accordion.
