So my latest adventure was a true comedy of errors – but turned into an unexpected visit to Atlanta with an old friend. As the years pass and I get busier I have less and less time to take anything short of a redeye back to the East Coast, yet my tolerance for them has dropped. So, on the principle that a luxury once enjoyed is a necessity, I’ve started flying First Class.
Not that I really want to – I mean, I enjoy it, but it’s expensive. First Class on some recent flights overseas, which I did NOT get, was in the range of ten thousand dollars. But if I can find a reasonable ticket back to my hometown, I’ll take it. (Rarely, I’ve even found cheaper First Class than normal flights).
One of the perks, apparently, of First Class is that they will call you if your flight connection is delayed. Because of fog, rain and mechanical issues, my plane to Atlanta was delayed, so Delta called me up and alerted me that if I headed to the airport RIGHT NOW, they’d get me on an earlier flight so I could make my connection. Mom and I were already on the way to the airport, so we asked for the check and motored.
I waved to one of my high school buddies in the airport bar – we’d originally been on the same flight – and made my new connection with moments to spare. We pulled back from the gate aaaaand … sat there. And sat there. And sat there, as the minutes ticked down. Finally, the pilot told us that the plane was off balance because it was underweight, the computer was confused, and they were having to reset everything manually. Finally, at the time the plane was originally supposed to have departed, we taxied out.
But then stopped on the runway. I and my buddy texted from two different planes that each was in trouble – ours had no gate to land, his, my original plane, had mechanical trouble and had rolled back to the gate, no mechanic in sight. I said, “screw it”, and in moments had reservations for the spectacular Atlanta Marriott Marquis hotel for only $50 bucks using Expedia points. I almost made reservations for my favorite restaurant, then rethought and texted my buddy: “Hey, you’ve missed your connection too, right?”
Yep. He sure had.
When he landed, I already a car, had upgraded the room for free to get an extra bed, and had a list of places to eat that were still open. We hit Manuel’s Tavern, one of our old favorites from back in the day, and then crashlanded in the hotel bar for an hour before calling it a night.
The next day, we were out and rolling at the ungodly hour of 6:50am – what is that, I mean, is that even a thing? – and having breakfast at Gordon Biersch. Now it was his turn to wave to make his LA connection, and an hour later I followed on my own flight, with Danny Devito sitting in seat 1B only a few rows away from me during my LA connection. By 4pm, I was hugging my wife and heading back home to hug some cats.
I guess the point, and I do have one, is that I could have had a miserable time with a delayed flight. Instead I got to have a great mini-trip to Atlanta, caught up with an old friend, and had a great story to tell.
I guess attitude is everything.