(Barely) leaving on a jet plane
I had to fly from NY to Cincinnati tonight. I usually enjoy travel. I hate packing, but I love airports and airplanes and the whole whirl of going places.
Tonight I was sure my flight was at 6. I had had several conversations with my brother to that effect all weekend. He lives in NY too and we were set to fly together.
Cute that at 340pm I’m sitting at my desk at work when and email comes across saying – your flight leaves in about one hour and is on time.
Whoops.
I bid a hasty farewell to my colleague and bolted for the door. Ran halfway up central park west. Got to my place – fortunately my brother was early. I packed in 3 minutes (a record) and we jetted for a cab.
I somehow got the taxi driver from heaven, he did about 90mph up park avenue (all the way up in the grungy part of park ave – like the spanish harlem part). We made it to lga with 25 minutes to takeoff. Dammit – I thought we were golden. Apparently checkin closes 30 minutes prior to departure. So we convinced some lady to help us get boarding cards, barrelled through security without my brother’s jumbo pomade being confiscated (thank god), and sprinted for the gate where we again (sweaty, this time) had to convince the guy to re-open the door to the jet bridge for us.
Bump bump bump. All the way down to the little plane.
Made it.
Have to say, I’m usually the one hating on people who run late like that. But we didn’t hold any one up, and the flight attendant was remarkably pleasant.
Maybe the fact that we kept saying we were funeral-bound helped our cause.
At any rate. Yay American Airlines. Yay us.
