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Escaping Chicago O'Hare
3 months ago
I was watching Google Travel for the best opportune time to plan my trip to and from Kentucky to make the most of it, and the best time to do so was to leave July first and come back July twelfth, but the flight back would take off at six thirty-four in the morning.
So, that's what we did. Woke up stupidly stupidly early on Saturday at two-forty in the morning, and were out the door by three-thirty to make the one hour drive northward to Louisville International Airport where I could make my flight.
There were no tears shed this time in the goodbyes, which I'm thankful for. I've gotten used to making this type of hard separation as my family drives off and leaves me to make my own way back home. I'm kind of glad I arrived this early, because holy shit there was a fuckton of military recruits finished training and heading out. Military loaded up with double backpacks front and back plus duffels. The line for American Airlines was astronomical compared to the other carriers, so much so that they were calling out for people with pressing flights to skip the line and get processed to not miss them. I was one of those people because it took me an combined hour to get through the check in and drop my bag, and the security line.
But here I am, at the gate, ready to reverse my flight path that got me here. Louisville to Chicago O'Hare, Chicago O'Hare to Los Angeles. Simple.
The flight from Louisville to Chicago is always a funny one to me because it takes exactly one hour to do, but also traverses a time zone so on paper it appears that the flight arrives in Chicago at the same time its theoretically left Louisville and takes ten minutes to complete.
AA 4622 from Louisville to Chicago O'Hare left on time, 6:34a eastern time from gate B16A. Smooth and unremarkable, I soon found myself in Terminal 3 of Chicago O'Hare with a friendly reminder text on my phone at 6:53a central time.
"Your next flight to LAX leaves in 1hr 57min. American Airlines 2012 departs ORD at 8:50a from gate K13 in terminal 3."
Perfect. Enough time to get some food and get to the gate, which I do, because I always seem to be in boarding group nine so its not like getting there benefits me in any way.
And then the wheels come off...
I'm at K13 waiting to board, and boarding doesn't happen. Instead we get an announcement.
"This plane is being delayed because of a mechanical issue, there's a maintenance team checking the engines. As soon as we know more we'll let you know."
And so the whole gate waits. Eight-fifty comes and goes. I know this isn't good because aircraft have specific booking times to make their journeys and if you miss your time, well, thats it, the entire rest of the airport is going to continue on in operations because those flights are still going to keep their schedules and it'll take some juggling to recover.
And then the text message.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 12:30p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Four hour delay waiting for this plane to leave. There's nothing I can do but wait to see if it will happen.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 1:15p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Another delay. I've been in this airport since six this morning, and so now I need to call the shuttle service that would be waiting for me at Los Angeles and tell them that I'm not going to make it.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 9:15p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
My fucking god.
By now the customer service desk in the K gates is swamped with a line twenty people long and growing as people, including myself, seek answers and alternative means of getting to where we need to go.
The short answer?
There is nothing, with a capital NO, NOTHING, at all going to Los Angeles this Saturday.
Every flight to Los Angeles is fully booked.
There's no flights even to alternative airports.
The standby list for every flight is thirty people long.
The soonest open flight is tomorrow on Sunday.
I'm welcome to take my name off of the flight and put myself on standby though in the hopes and prayers that something could happen, but it became clear that there was no answer to those hopes at all as the one flight I waited for was indeed booked solid, boarded, and left.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 11:00p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Mind you its still only in the afternoon, but for the first time in all my travels, I'm genuinely just...stranded. There is no possible way to get home Saturday. I'm fucking stuck in Chicago. Another passenger who was also on the plane told me in passing that there was little hope of the stupid plane ever leaving today anyway.
So I went back to the customer service desk and asked at what point do you give up on the flight and just admit there's no alternatives but to wait.
I got twenty-four dollars in food vouchers, and a hotel voucher to stay off sight on the airlines, and believe me I made the most of it buying a thick double burger from a Chili's in the terminal to take with me back to the hotel, the Hilton Garden Inn. An amusing choice knowing thats also one of the hotels that Midwest FurFest uses when it happens just down the road from the convention complex.
I would really love it if I could get my bag though to bring with me to the hotel, you know? The agent made that request when I got rebooked onto a new flight for Sunday morning but did warn me that the wait for retrieving bags from the locker was an extensive one.
And he wasn't lying.
I went down to bag claim and I waited...four...fucking...hours.
The request to pull my bag from the locker never happened. I'm just watching the carousels get unloaded and people claiming their stuff and leaving. I politely kept my distance and only inquired about every hour.
By now its SIX. AT. NIGHT. I've been in this airport for twelve...fucking hours. I've gone nowhere. I don't have my stuff. And then a final inquiry with the agent at the desk shows that...my bag is scheduled for a flight. That its making the journey to Los Angeles on an 8p flight without me in spare space on an aircraft so the request to pull it from the locker isn't likely to happen.
So my bag made it to Los Angeles on Saturday night, of all the things to happen. So I'm in Chicago with literally what I'm wearing on me and my backpack with my laptop and sketchbook in it and...thats...it.
Thankfully the hotel offered one time use items, and really, my mood was improved just taking a shower, and finally eating my burger I'd bought five hours ago with the promise that tomorrow I'd be on my way.
But fate would have OTHER PLANS... oh my fucking god.
Sunday almost screwed me because even though I'd set the hotel clock for waking up at five in the morning, oh, it was some stupid twenty-four hour clock, so it was twelve hours out of phase with what it should've been. I wondered why the alarm hadn't gone off yet and then looked over to see the clock was reading 17:20, not 05:20. Whatever. I gathered up my stuff and got on the shuttle back to my familiar grounds...Terminal 3.
Security check was a complete fucking madhouse, but the line was moving for ridiculously long as it appeared and being that my bag was nowhere near me now but waiting in a closet in Los Angeles, it wasn't like I needed to go to the check in desk anymore.
Somehow the flight that I'd gotten rebooked on ended up being the same flight number, and I didn't even realize this until I looked at my updated itinerary. Flight 2012 again, leaving from the same gate as yesterday, K13, and at 8:50a.
McDonalds for breakfast, because for some reason O'Hare has a massive concentration of McDonald's everywhere. There's like...four of them in Terminal 3, and exactly one hour before salvation...
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 1:00p on Jul 13 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
MY FUCKING GOD THIS PLANE IS NEVER GOING TO LEAVE.
I just got here at six in the morning and now its not going to leave for seven...fucking...hours!
I make the choice to bail on the flight. It never left yesterday, why should I have any hope in hell that its ever leaving today!?
The phone app for American Airlines let me change my flight, but its only showing ONE possible alternative, and its not great. Fly from Chicago O'Hare to Pittsburgh, wait an hour and a half layover, and then go to Los Angeles. Its not great, but its the only thing listed and it leaves from here roughly the same time as the delayed plane, so I rebook myself onto American Airlines 6348.
"American 6348 from ORD to PIT will depart 1:57p from gate L10A in terminal 3."
I'm in the freaking H and K gates. To change to any different gate concourse requires backtracking down the entire thing to the hub area and going down a different corridor. And L10A is near the ass end of the corridor. But there I am, I'm waiting for the plane.
And we wait. I've now been stranded in Chicago for twenty-four hours.
Needless to say there isn't a whole lot to do or look at in Chicago O'Hare. I just find some chairs with power outlets and plug in my phone from time to time because its my literal lifeline to anything right now, and the hours tick. tick. tick. tick. tick by.
Oh you got to be fucking kidding me...
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 1:57p out of gate G1A in terminal 3."
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 1:57p out of gate H1A in terminal 3."
Its now scheduled to arrive not where I am, but at the gate just behind security. So I go for another walk...but while I'm doing so I'm also looking at any other flight possibilities...
...why is Flight 2012 still listed as actually leaving? Wait...its ACTUALLY LEAVING!?
So I go back down the HK gate corridor and look to see. YES. The fucking plane is actually boarding to leave. No, I can't get on it because I already surrendered my damn seat on it, and the standby list is THIRTY PEOPLE LONG. There is no way I am on this plane and so the best option I have is what I already choose earlier. God this is so fucking frustrating.
What now...
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 2:38p on Jul 13 from ORD gate H1A, terminal 3."
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 2:38p out of gate G21 in terminal 3."
My flight to Pittsburgh is DELAYED. The fucking fuck is fucking going on. Why is nothing fucking working. Around the entire airport there's flights arriving, discharging passengers, boarding up, and departing. Detroit, Milwaukee, Quebec, you name it, there are flights happening that are on time and leaving, but everything I need is just turning to SHIT.
Not to mention now I have to go to an entirely DIFFERENT CONCOURSE again, and G21 is at the ASS END OF THE CORRIDOR. The last gate possible.
But this is promising. There's a plane arriving in. Even with this little delay, according to my phone itinerary, the connection in Pittsburgh is still possible to make.
But boarding doesn't start.
"Ladies and gentleman this plane has a mechanical delay. We're having a maintenance team look at the cabin lights, so we'll update you when we have more information."
You. Cannot. Be. Fucking. Serious.
How is this possible. Another plane gets here and breaks with a mechanical delay that the maintenance team is looking at!?
At this point its just becoming so fucking comical its absurd. I'm NEVER leaving this fucking airport.
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 3:20p on Jul 13 from ORD gate G21, terminal 3."
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 3:55p on Jul 13 from ORD gate G21, terminal 3."
I can't do it anymore. A bit of a mental crack as the constant failures and hours long delays are just pissing me off. How is everything failing this bad. But also a time constraint. The delays of this flight going to Pittsburgh now make it infeasible to even have a chance of making my connection to the Los Angeles flight. The connection time is a mere twelve minutes. I can't do it, I have to bail on this flight now or I'd go to Pittsburgh and be stuck there instead.
So I storm off away from the gate, and find another familiar place I've been at; the customer service desk. For some reason this one in the G gates only had a short line, whereas the HK gate desk had a line now consistently sixty people deep down the concourse like a queue for a miserable amusement park ride.
I don't remember the agents name here, but I plead my case that I am trying...so...hard...to leave this godforsaken airport and go home to Los Angeles. He sees I'm booked on the flight to Pittsburgh. I explain that its delayed and there is no way I have a hope of making my connection.
And we wait.
He tak-a-tak-a-taks away on his keyboard. What he was looking at on his screen I don't know. I stood there in defeated silence for easily three minutes.
And then he prints out a boarding pass for gate H9.
He found...ONE...surrendered seat, on ONE plane leaving nonstop for Los Angeles, that leaves TONIGHT.
But it leaves at eight fifty-five at night.
"American 3194 from ORD to LAX will depart at 8:55p from gate H16 in terminal 3."
Another...five...hours...of waiting.
But its the best shot I've had of anything right now, and I take the ticket and leave the G gates and go back to the Chili's I got that burger from, and this time dine in. I mean, where the fuck else am I going to go. What's another five hours on top of the thirty I've already spent here, thirty hours passed at noon and I live in the fucking airport now it seems. Its also around this time that I have to make a phone call to my manager about Monday at work because if this flight pulls through I'm now going to arrive at Los Angeles with no ride home, and get home so late that there's no way I can show up Monday.
"Gate change: Flight AA3194 from ORD to LAX departs at 8:55p out of gate H17 in terminal 3."
Okay, nothing to panic about there.
"Gate change: Flight AA3194 from ORD to LAX departs at 8:55p out of gate K8 in terminal 3."
Still nothing to panic about, at least its not at the ass end of a corridor. Midway down isn't too bad.
And you bet that I'm now sitting there hoping this pulls through. Nothing else has. But this gate has a plane at it. The status screen still shows a green 'ON TIME' mark.
You better not say there's another mechanical problem.
...
They're calling boarding groups.
People are getting on.
I'm in group eight.
I scan my boarding pass. Oops, come to find out I'm not in group eight, I was supposed to be in group nine because I changed my seat, but no big deal.
I'm on the bridge.
I'm ON THE PLANE.
It leaves the gate.
It takes off.
I'm finally free of fucking Chicago.
Forty...hours...later.
From six forty on Saturday morning until nine Sunday night.
And the flight went perfect.
Back in Chicago there was something worth mentioning. Next to me in the seating area there was a married couple, an older man and woman. For some reason the man got up, and there was a mild kerfluffle about this drink traveler mug. He didn't want it to spill and told his wife to prop his bag up against it to hold it upright. Nothing remarkable about that conversation at all, as I'm focused on charging my phone before the plane boards.
They must've been well paying fliers because they got up with boarding group one being called. Or at least I thought so. Its not like me to pay attention to random people, and this is an airport where people can sit anywhere and may not be at the correct gate of where they're ultimately going.
So when boarding group eight was called, I got up and put my stuff in my bag, and then I noticed this grey traveler mug next to me. The guy forget his cup.
So in a split second thought, I grabbed it in hand and carried it onto the plane. There may be a good chance that I recognize his face in passing on my way back to seat 25D if he boarded in that early. Hmmm, he's not in the first class rows. He's not even in the first dozen rows. No for some reason this guy and his wife were all the way back in row 20D and 20E and they were shocked surprised when I came up and said "sir, you forgot this outside" to give it back to him. He clearly was not expecting to ever get it back. I don't know if it was an expensive item, or just the stupid feeling you have forgetting something like that, but in passing he agreed to buy me a beer on the plane for that. And during the flight, a beer indeed showed up from the snack cart.
Alas, I never drank the beer. I kind of sort of wanted to keep it for later as a bit of a victory lap for fucking getting my trip over with, but I couldn't take it off the plane and it was taken from me. I should've just put it in my bag rather than carry it off in my hand. So, I'm sorry whoever that gentleman was that bought it for me but I never saw him again exiting the plane so as far as he knows, I enjoyed it and that's it.
On the flight it was if whatever god I'd angered had a delightful mood swing to be pleasant because everything went proper from here on.
We landed.
I found the baggage office and retrieved my bag where it'd been waiting for me for the last day in a closet locker.
Unfortunately I was without a ride home as the shuttle service to home makes its last run at ten at night and had already gone. I phoned in a favor to a fur friend Fleet who got off work late from close by and he offered to pick me up in exchange for fuel money.
It was well beyond midnight into Monday morning by the time we hit the 405 Freeway northward, listening to electroswing which certainly sets a particular mood when the freeway is dark, lightly traveled, in the dead of night before a work week starts.
And my travels home from Kentucky didn't end until I got through my door at exactly two in the freaking morning on Monday.
This was supposed to be a quick easy day trip that should've gotten me here by Saturday afternoon at the latest. All the while I was in Kentucky there was a risk of thunderstorms that never amounted to much of anything where I was, but I guess in Chicago and Dallas and other airports they wrecked havoc cancelling and delaying flights all over, so when I made my trip on that weekend I unknowingly flew into Chicago catching the tail end of a colossal shit storm that hadn't cleared yet.
Yeah there was absolutely no conceivable way I could even think to show up for a work shift at six in the morning.
I unpacked, took a shower, and crashed the fuck to sleep to handle all of this on Tuesday.
--Mozdoc
So, that's what we did. Woke up stupidly stupidly early on Saturday at two-forty in the morning, and were out the door by three-thirty to make the one hour drive northward to Louisville International Airport where I could make my flight.
There were no tears shed this time in the goodbyes, which I'm thankful for. I've gotten used to making this type of hard separation as my family drives off and leaves me to make my own way back home. I'm kind of glad I arrived this early, because holy shit there was a fuckton of military recruits finished training and heading out. Military loaded up with double backpacks front and back plus duffels. The line for American Airlines was astronomical compared to the other carriers, so much so that they were calling out for people with pressing flights to skip the line and get processed to not miss them. I was one of those people because it took me an combined hour to get through the check in and drop my bag, and the security line.
But here I am, at the gate, ready to reverse my flight path that got me here. Louisville to Chicago O'Hare, Chicago O'Hare to Los Angeles. Simple.
The flight from Louisville to Chicago is always a funny one to me because it takes exactly one hour to do, but also traverses a time zone so on paper it appears that the flight arrives in Chicago at the same time its theoretically left Louisville and takes ten minutes to complete.
AA 4622 from Louisville to Chicago O'Hare left on time, 6:34a eastern time from gate B16A. Smooth and unremarkable, I soon found myself in Terminal 3 of Chicago O'Hare with a friendly reminder text on my phone at 6:53a central time.
"Your next flight to LAX leaves in 1hr 57min. American Airlines 2012 departs ORD at 8:50a from gate K13 in terminal 3."
Perfect. Enough time to get some food and get to the gate, which I do, because I always seem to be in boarding group nine so its not like getting there benefits me in any way.
And then the wheels come off...
I'm at K13 waiting to board, and boarding doesn't happen. Instead we get an announcement.
"This plane is being delayed because of a mechanical issue, there's a maintenance team checking the engines. As soon as we know more we'll let you know."
And so the whole gate waits. Eight-fifty comes and goes. I know this isn't good because aircraft have specific booking times to make their journeys and if you miss your time, well, thats it, the entire rest of the airport is going to continue on in operations because those flights are still going to keep their schedules and it'll take some juggling to recover.
And then the text message.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 12:30p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Four hour delay waiting for this plane to leave. There's nothing I can do but wait to see if it will happen.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 1:15p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Another delay. I've been in this airport since six this morning, and so now I need to call the shuttle service that would be waiting for me at Los Angeles and tell them that I'm not going to make it.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 9:15p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
My fucking god.
By now the customer service desk in the K gates is swamped with a line twenty people long and growing as people, including myself, seek answers and alternative means of getting to where we need to go.
The short answer?
There is nothing, with a capital NO, NOTHING, at all going to Los Angeles this Saturday.
Every flight to Los Angeles is fully booked.
There's no flights even to alternative airports.
The standby list for every flight is thirty people long.
The soonest open flight is tomorrow on Sunday.
I'm welcome to take my name off of the flight and put myself on standby though in the hopes and prayers that something could happen, but it became clear that there was no answer to those hopes at all as the one flight I waited for was indeed booked solid, boarded, and left.
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 11:00p on Jul 12 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
Mind you its still only in the afternoon, but for the first time in all my travels, I'm genuinely just...stranded. There is no possible way to get home Saturday. I'm fucking stuck in Chicago. Another passenger who was also on the plane told me in passing that there was little hope of the stupid plane ever leaving today anyway.
So I went back to the customer service desk and asked at what point do you give up on the flight and just admit there's no alternatives but to wait.
I got twenty-four dollars in food vouchers, and a hotel voucher to stay off sight on the airlines, and believe me I made the most of it buying a thick double burger from a Chili's in the terminal to take with me back to the hotel, the Hilton Garden Inn. An amusing choice knowing thats also one of the hotels that Midwest FurFest uses when it happens just down the road from the convention complex.
I would really love it if I could get my bag though to bring with me to the hotel, you know? The agent made that request when I got rebooked onto a new flight for Sunday morning but did warn me that the wait for retrieving bags from the locker was an extensive one.
And he wasn't lying.
I went down to bag claim and I waited...four...fucking...hours.
The request to pull my bag from the locker never happened. I'm just watching the carousels get unloaded and people claiming their stuff and leaving. I politely kept my distance and only inquired about every hour.
By now its SIX. AT. NIGHT. I've been in this airport for twelve...fucking hours. I've gone nowhere. I don't have my stuff. And then a final inquiry with the agent at the desk shows that...my bag is scheduled for a flight. That its making the journey to Los Angeles on an 8p flight without me in spare space on an aircraft so the request to pull it from the locker isn't likely to happen.
So my bag made it to Los Angeles on Saturday night, of all the things to happen. So I'm in Chicago with literally what I'm wearing on me and my backpack with my laptop and sketchbook in it and...thats...it.
Thankfully the hotel offered one time use items, and really, my mood was improved just taking a shower, and finally eating my burger I'd bought five hours ago with the promise that tomorrow I'd be on my way.
But fate would have OTHER PLANS... oh my fucking god.
Sunday almost screwed me because even though I'd set the hotel clock for waking up at five in the morning, oh, it was some stupid twenty-four hour clock, so it was twelve hours out of phase with what it should've been. I wondered why the alarm hadn't gone off yet and then looked over to see the clock was reading 17:20, not 05:20. Whatever. I gathered up my stuff and got on the shuttle back to my familiar grounds...Terminal 3.
Security check was a complete fucking madhouse, but the line was moving for ridiculously long as it appeared and being that my bag was nowhere near me now but waiting in a closet in Los Angeles, it wasn't like I needed to go to the check in desk anymore.
Somehow the flight that I'd gotten rebooked on ended up being the same flight number, and I didn't even realize this until I looked at my updated itinerary. Flight 2012 again, leaving from the same gate as yesterday, K13, and at 8:50a.
McDonalds for breakfast, because for some reason O'Hare has a massive concentration of McDonald's everywhere. There's like...four of them in Terminal 3, and exactly one hour before salvation...
"American 2012 to LAX: Departure time has changed to 1:00p on Jul 13 from ORD gate K13, terminal 3."
MY FUCKING GOD THIS PLANE IS NEVER GOING TO LEAVE.
I just got here at six in the morning and now its not going to leave for seven...fucking...hours!
I make the choice to bail on the flight. It never left yesterday, why should I have any hope in hell that its ever leaving today!?
The phone app for American Airlines let me change my flight, but its only showing ONE possible alternative, and its not great. Fly from Chicago O'Hare to Pittsburgh, wait an hour and a half layover, and then go to Los Angeles. Its not great, but its the only thing listed and it leaves from here roughly the same time as the delayed plane, so I rebook myself onto American Airlines 6348.
"American 6348 from ORD to PIT will depart 1:57p from gate L10A in terminal 3."
I'm in the freaking H and K gates. To change to any different gate concourse requires backtracking down the entire thing to the hub area and going down a different corridor. And L10A is near the ass end of the corridor. But there I am, I'm waiting for the plane.
And we wait. I've now been stranded in Chicago for twenty-four hours.
Needless to say there isn't a whole lot to do or look at in Chicago O'Hare. I just find some chairs with power outlets and plug in my phone from time to time because its my literal lifeline to anything right now, and the hours tick. tick. tick. tick. tick by.
Oh you got to be fucking kidding me...
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 1:57p out of gate G1A in terminal 3."
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 1:57p out of gate H1A in terminal 3."
Its now scheduled to arrive not where I am, but at the gate just behind security. So I go for another walk...but while I'm doing so I'm also looking at any other flight possibilities...
...why is Flight 2012 still listed as actually leaving? Wait...its ACTUALLY LEAVING!?
So I go back down the HK gate corridor and look to see. YES. The fucking plane is actually boarding to leave. No, I can't get on it because I already surrendered my damn seat on it, and the standby list is THIRTY PEOPLE LONG. There is no way I am on this plane and so the best option I have is what I already choose earlier. God this is so fucking frustrating.
What now...
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 2:38p on Jul 13 from ORD gate H1A, terminal 3."
"Gate change: Flight AA6348 from ORD to PIT departs at 2:38p out of gate G21 in terminal 3."
My flight to Pittsburgh is DELAYED. The fucking fuck is fucking going on. Why is nothing fucking working. Around the entire airport there's flights arriving, discharging passengers, boarding up, and departing. Detroit, Milwaukee, Quebec, you name it, there are flights happening that are on time and leaving, but everything I need is just turning to SHIT.
Not to mention now I have to go to an entirely DIFFERENT CONCOURSE again, and G21 is at the ASS END OF THE CORRIDOR. The last gate possible.
But this is promising. There's a plane arriving in. Even with this little delay, according to my phone itinerary, the connection in Pittsburgh is still possible to make.
But boarding doesn't start.
"Ladies and gentleman this plane has a mechanical delay. We're having a maintenance team look at the cabin lights, so we'll update you when we have more information."
You. Cannot. Be. Fucking. Serious.
How is this possible. Another plane gets here and breaks with a mechanical delay that the maintenance team is looking at!?
At this point its just becoming so fucking comical its absurd. I'm NEVER leaving this fucking airport.
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 3:20p on Jul 13 from ORD gate G21, terminal 3."
"American 6348 to PIT: Departure time has changed to 3:55p on Jul 13 from ORD gate G21, terminal 3."
I can't do it anymore. A bit of a mental crack as the constant failures and hours long delays are just pissing me off. How is everything failing this bad. But also a time constraint. The delays of this flight going to Pittsburgh now make it infeasible to even have a chance of making my connection to the Los Angeles flight. The connection time is a mere twelve minutes. I can't do it, I have to bail on this flight now or I'd go to Pittsburgh and be stuck there instead.
So I storm off away from the gate, and find another familiar place I've been at; the customer service desk. For some reason this one in the G gates only had a short line, whereas the HK gate desk had a line now consistently sixty people deep down the concourse like a queue for a miserable amusement park ride.
I don't remember the agents name here, but I plead my case that I am trying...so...hard...to leave this godforsaken airport and go home to Los Angeles. He sees I'm booked on the flight to Pittsburgh. I explain that its delayed and there is no way I have a hope of making my connection.
And we wait.
He tak-a-tak-a-taks away on his keyboard. What he was looking at on his screen I don't know. I stood there in defeated silence for easily three minutes.
And then he prints out a boarding pass for gate H9.
He found...ONE...surrendered seat, on ONE plane leaving nonstop for Los Angeles, that leaves TONIGHT.
But it leaves at eight fifty-five at night.
"American 3194 from ORD to LAX will depart at 8:55p from gate H16 in terminal 3."
Another...five...hours...of waiting.
But its the best shot I've had of anything right now, and I take the ticket and leave the G gates and go back to the Chili's I got that burger from, and this time dine in. I mean, where the fuck else am I going to go. What's another five hours on top of the thirty I've already spent here, thirty hours passed at noon and I live in the fucking airport now it seems. Its also around this time that I have to make a phone call to my manager about Monday at work because if this flight pulls through I'm now going to arrive at Los Angeles with no ride home, and get home so late that there's no way I can show up Monday.
"Gate change: Flight AA3194 from ORD to LAX departs at 8:55p out of gate H17 in terminal 3."
Okay, nothing to panic about there.
"Gate change: Flight AA3194 from ORD to LAX departs at 8:55p out of gate K8 in terminal 3."
Still nothing to panic about, at least its not at the ass end of a corridor. Midway down isn't too bad.
And you bet that I'm now sitting there hoping this pulls through. Nothing else has. But this gate has a plane at it. The status screen still shows a green 'ON TIME' mark.
You better not say there's another mechanical problem.
...
They're calling boarding groups.
People are getting on.
I'm in group eight.
I scan my boarding pass. Oops, come to find out I'm not in group eight, I was supposed to be in group nine because I changed my seat, but no big deal.
I'm on the bridge.
I'm ON THE PLANE.
It leaves the gate.
It takes off.
I'm finally free of fucking Chicago.
Forty...hours...later.
From six forty on Saturday morning until nine Sunday night.
And the flight went perfect.
Back in Chicago there was something worth mentioning. Next to me in the seating area there was a married couple, an older man and woman. For some reason the man got up, and there was a mild kerfluffle about this drink traveler mug. He didn't want it to spill and told his wife to prop his bag up against it to hold it upright. Nothing remarkable about that conversation at all, as I'm focused on charging my phone before the plane boards.
They must've been well paying fliers because they got up with boarding group one being called. Or at least I thought so. Its not like me to pay attention to random people, and this is an airport where people can sit anywhere and may not be at the correct gate of where they're ultimately going.
So when boarding group eight was called, I got up and put my stuff in my bag, and then I noticed this grey traveler mug next to me. The guy forget his cup.
So in a split second thought, I grabbed it in hand and carried it onto the plane. There may be a good chance that I recognize his face in passing on my way back to seat 25D if he boarded in that early. Hmmm, he's not in the first class rows. He's not even in the first dozen rows. No for some reason this guy and his wife were all the way back in row 20D and 20E and they were shocked surprised when I came up and said "sir, you forgot this outside" to give it back to him. He clearly was not expecting to ever get it back. I don't know if it was an expensive item, or just the stupid feeling you have forgetting something like that, but in passing he agreed to buy me a beer on the plane for that. And during the flight, a beer indeed showed up from the snack cart.
Alas, I never drank the beer. I kind of sort of wanted to keep it for later as a bit of a victory lap for fucking getting my trip over with, but I couldn't take it off the plane and it was taken from me. I should've just put it in my bag rather than carry it off in my hand. So, I'm sorry whoever that gentleman was that bought it for me but I never saw him again exiting the plane so as far as he knows, I enjoyed it and that's it.
On the flight it was if whatever god I'd angered had a delightful mood swing to be pleasant because everything went proper from here on.
We landed.
I found the baggage office and retrieved my bag where it'd been waiting for me for the last day in a closet locker.
Unfortunately I was without a ride home as the shuttle service to home makes its last run at ten at night and had already gone. I phoned in a favor to a fur friend Fleet who got off work late from close by and he offered to pick me up in exchange for fuel money.
It was well beyond midnight into Monday morning by the time we hit the 405 Freeway northward, listening to electroswing which certainly sets a particular mood when the freeway is dark, lightly traveled, in the dead of night before a work week starts.
And my travels home from Kentucky didn't end until I got through my door at exactly two in the freaking morning on Monday.
This was supposed to be a quick easy day trip that should've gotten me here by Saturday afternoon at the latest. All the while I was in Kentucky there was a risk of thunderstorms that never amounted to much of anything where I was, but I guess in Chicago and Dallas and other airports they wrecked havoc cancelling and delaying flights all over, so when I made my trip on that weekend I unknowingly flew into Chicago catching the tail end of a colossal shit storm that hadn't cleared yet.
Yeah there was absolutely no conceivable way I could even think to show up for a work shift at six in the morning.
I unpacked, took a shower, and crashed the fuck to sleep to handle all of this on Tuesday.
--Mozdoc
Glad you made it safe