Today my family had a plan. We were going to Ireland. More specifically, we planned on taking a 3:40 pm US Airlines flight from Chicago to Philadelphia, then catching an 8 o'clock connecting flight to Dublin. Simple enough. Well, to make a long story short, it's 6 pm and I'm sitting in one of United's planes, in Chicago, still at the gate, in a pool of sweat. What's that you say? You want to hear the full story? Well, it's looking like I'll be here for a while, so...sure. Heck, I'll just start from the very beginning.
I had a pretty sleepless night, as is pretty much always the case when I am about to go somewhere else for an extended time period. I woke up around 10 am, though I don't exactly what time it was, since I didn't really wake up until I was halfway through my shower (hmm...I have shampoo in my hair and a bar of soap is in my hands, what is going on. Oh right, I must be in the shower). Then, a leftover rib breakfast, an episode of Saved by the Bell, a trip to drop off my dog and pick up my grandma, and a stop at Subway for lunch later, I found myself standing in the airport...And we're moving. Finally. Jeez. Anyway, to continue with the story (this is where it starts to get interesting)...
So we are standing at the counter waiting for our boarding passes when we are told that the plane that we were supposed to be taking was delayed and would not be to Philadelphia in time to make our connecting flight. So we were transferred to a United flight to Philadelphia, scheduled to leave at 3:00. It sounded great to us, we'd have even more time to get from gate to gate, so we took it...And the engines are firing, prepare to accelerate...too...bumpy...to...continue...And we stopped. So I'll go on now.
The United check-in was crazy. Cah-razy. It was packed. Everyone's baggage had to be wiped down and tested for chemicals before it was sent onto the plane. Then when we went to the security gates we were all selected for inspection. The lines were long, and the security guards almost ended up stealing my dad's wallet and all of our passports. It was quite the hassle.
You may be asking, "Did all that security crap cause you to miss your flight? Was all that a criticism of the crazy airport security?" BAH! Not at all, at least they are doing something, and we had plenty of time left to eat a lunch before the plane actually boarded. I only wrote all that out because I wanted to make you think we missed our flight. Hahaha! I'm such a jerk. But all that did happen...
So we boarded the plane and got our seats. We were ready to go. Five little minutes before the plane was scheduled to leave the pilot comes on over the PA, really talkative guy, and starts to go on about how the plane is just about ready to go and how we were about to have a wonderful time in the air together, and blah blah blah. Then, mid captain speech, his tone changes. He tells us that the loading crew just up and left before they were finished. Apparently there is a rule in the Chicago area that if lightening strikes within 15 miles of a Chicago airport, everyone has to clear the field. Then they have to wait 10 minutes to come back out, unless it strikes again, in which case they need to wait another 10 minutes. There was no storm to be seen from my viewpoint, but lightening kept striking ever 5-7 minutes in some random place within that 15 mile radius.
After quite a long time, the storm finally came and it was enormous. Very windy, and lots of hail. The wind was shaking the plane, so I pretended that we were flying through a lot of turbulence. And now the captain just told us that a giant storm has formed above the runway we just got onto, so we can't take off yet.
So we sat through this big storm with out pilot coming on over the intercom every few minutes apologizing for the wait and the lack of air flow that was causing the plane to become ridiculously hot, giving us information on the status of the storm and how big it was, and trying to keep us occupied so that we wouldn't all tear the plane to pieces in a fit of boredom.
"One day a duck goes into a bar and asks, 'You got any grapes?' The bartender says no, so the duck leaves. The next day, the duck is back and asks, 'You got any grapes?' Once again, the bartender says no and the duck waddles out. On the third day, the duck comes back again. The bartender is thinking, 'This is ridiculous.' The duck walks up to the bar and asks, once again, 'You got any grapes.' The bartender is pretty annoyed, so he tells the duck, 'If you come in here asking for grapes one more time I'm gonna nail your beak to this bar!' Angrily, the duck storms out. However, the next day, the duck is back again. He goes up to the bar and says, 'You got any nails?' The bartender says no. 'You got any grapes?'"
At one point, the pilot decided to hold a little contest. The person who could guess a number closest to the weight of the plane would win a bottle of wine, red or white, winner's choice (21 and over). Should you ever have a similar contest, a Boeing 737 weighs 57 tons. The winner was, of course, an Irishman on his way back home, sitting one row behind me. As soon as he got the bottle, he immediately asked the steward for a cup. Not until after the flight, sir, not until after. I think it is killing him.
Oop we're moving again, apparently to the one open runway. After the hailing and such, the guys came back out and almost finished, but then there was some more lightening, and it was really annoying, but we eventually got moving. Then there was the runway delay and the runway transfer...after many CDs...after many games of tic-tac-toe (which, contrary to what I have heard, is very possible to win if you go first and your opponent is greedy)...after much writing...we are about to leave.
Oh, on a side note, United allows you to listen in on communications. It's really just a bunch of pilots blabbing out numbers and airline jargon that is pretty boring, unless you imagine that you are the pilot speaking that jargon...which you may resort to if you get bored enough...not that I'm implying anything by that, just saying, "Bravo 869 holding, hurry up Roger 678. Do we need to follow the Eagle into the pad?"
And now we're accelerating. And stopping. And accelerating. And stopping. Repeat 10 times, we are apparently 11th in line for the runway. My gum is already chewed out and we haven't even changed pressure, yet. "Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff."
So we're finally in the air now, the plane took off at 7:37 (which is interesting, since it is a 737. No joke). 7:37 for a 3:00 flight. I have been on this plan for 5 hours and I still have 2 hours of flying ahead of me, and I'm sure we missed our connecting flight by now (though it won't stop us from sprinting a mile through the airport to find out). However, staring out the window as the plane continually rises, I begin to see the brighter side of this delay. The sun has just begun to set, and as we fly over The Lake, and as we are just above the clouds, I see the reflection of the setting sun scattering across the water, turning it into a brilliant orange hue. The sun is just high enough to still shine through the clouds though, and along the edges of each cloud there are these beautiful golden rays shining across the sky. Stunning.