Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Anyone else love the movie Planes, Trains, and Automobiles as much as I? Probably, since most of us share the same twisted sense of humor. Along those lines, though, I feel like I have now lived a few scenes from that movie.

As many of you know, Dallas received a winter storm last Thursday and Friday. At the same time, I was scheduled to fly to and from Greensboro, North Carolina. My flight on Thursday was scheduled to leave at 6:45am, so I contacted American when I woke at 4am to see if things were still on schedule. They were. After finishing my packing and getting dressed, I headed out into the weather. The storm had not arrived, by then, though, so the roads were in good shape and traffic was minimal. Yes, there's even traffic in the wee hours of a Dallas morning.

Once at the airport, I got checked-in and on the plane with no issues, but we were delayed for take-off. We were made to idle on the de-icing pad for about 45 minutes since the temperature was dropping. They didn't want us picking up any ice on takeoff as we went through the clouds. It took 45 minutes for that process, though, because once the truck finished the plane next to us, they got our left wing done and drove off. The pilot announced over the intercom that the truck had apparently run out of gas and needed to go refuel before they could finish prepping our aircraft. Needless to say, I was about an hour late landing in Greensboro, and my colleagues who flew in after me were about the same margin late as well. We were still in time for our meetings, though, so everything still worked out fine.

The next afternoon, we returned to the Greensboro airport for our return flights. We all checked-in at the same time even though my flight was about 4 hours later than my colleagues. Since there's nothing to do in Greensboro, I was just going to hang out at the airport and watch a movie or play a video game on my PSP. We had to get through the security checkpoint first, though.

I and one of my coworkers made it through with no issues. No such luck for our other travel partner. She was flagged for closer inspection, and as they started rummaging through her purse, they came across hand sanitizer. She was busted for attempting to sneak contraband past security. The germs on that plane have a right to life, and she certainly can't be allowed to bring such a dangerous weapon aboard. It could kill millions….of germs.

The TSA inspector told my coworker that she could take the sanitizer if she could put it in a Ziploc bag. It just so happened that my other coworker had such a bag that she had used to bring her own liquids and gels through security, and since we were standing right there she asked if the hand sanitizer could be in her bag. The TSA inspector said that was okay and handed the sanitizer to my coworker. The inspector never one checked to see if the gel was placed into the bag. She never once asked for the bag to be sent back through screening. She never once thought about it again, and my coworker literally just held the bottle of hand sanitizer in her hand until the inspector was done. Once everything was cleared, she just handed the sanitizer back and it went right back into the purse it had been removed from. Boy, I feel safer now that I know how easy it is get liquids and gels past security.

After all of that, my coworkers were nearly late for their flight, but they managed to get on board just in time. About 10 minutes after their plane left the gate, though, is when my story really began to unfold. An announcement was made throughout the airport for everyone already checked-in for flight xxxx to return to the American ticket counter. Since that was my flight, I headed back to the unsecured section of the airport and the ticket counter.

There were about 5 of us already at the airport and checked-in and we all stood around the counter to hear the news that our flight had just been cancelled. Then the next 45 minutes was spent working with an agent to find any flight with available seating so that we could be rerouted. It was like a bad Christmas movie, or a dull episode of "The Amazing Race." A flight was found from Raleigh, NC that was direct to DFW, but that would require driving. The pregnant lady next to me offered to drive, and I briefly considered the offer. I held out for a better deal, though.

As it turned out there were two Northwest Airlines flights leaving from Greensboro soon that could connect to DFW. One through Memphis and the other through Detroit. I asked the ticketing agent which city had the best odds of clear weather, and she said it was Detroit since Memphis was receiving snow at that very moment. My decision was made. Fly to Detroit with an hour layover then direct to DFW. I would be on the ground by 9pm and home by 10pm. Things didn't work out quite so easily, though.

My flight to Detroit was in a sardine can with four seats across. Two on either side of the aisle. I think the plane was originally designed to only have one seat on either side of the aisle, so we were all nearly sitting in each other's laps with the roof looming only an inch or so above our heads. It was cramped. It wasn't a prop plane, but it was only one step up from one. Add to that the weather that we flew through, so there was a lot of turbulence. Add to that the fact that the pilot couldn't seem to make up his mind whether he wanted to be above, below, or in the clouds. Add to that the fact that the pilot couldn't decide how fast he wanted to fly. Add to that the fact that the guy sitting next to me was trying to get home to Oak Lawn (that's where Boy George would live if he were a DFW resident) and just wanted a "hand to hold." (this request was not accommodated) And then put a screaming 2 year old right on the top. The perfect way to start my trip home.

It got better, though, as we started to descend into Detroit, I realized that we were going to be landing about an hour late, and I only had a little over an hour layover scheduled in Detroit. The flight attendant assured me that every flight in America was at least an hour late, so there would certainly not be an issue with me catching my connecting flight. The flight attendant was incorrect. We landed at gate E6 and I checked with the agent at the end of the gangway and she informed me that my connecting flight was leaving from A71, it was on time, and that I had just 10 minutes to get there. When I inquired as to the fastest way to get there, I learned that the Detroit airport does not have a tram system to connect gates and terminals quickly. She said simply, "Run."

Run I did. All the way. With my laptop in my backpack. I ran around kids, old people, up escalators, down escalators, through a tunnel, across moving sidewalks. Finally, out of breath, I arrived at A71 with less than five minutes to spare. The agent told me that they were just getting ready to close the doors and that I had made it just in time. I told her that I had left a few others behind, so she might want to wait a little bit longer.

Thankfully, this flight was 3 large seats each on either side of the aisle, and I only had one other person sitting my three section of the row. We split the seat between us and had plenty of room to stretch out. The wind, though, was horrific. During takeoff, I swear the plane yawed sideways. The pilot did a great job keeping it level, and we were soon to a smooth cruising altitude all the way to DFW.

Our landing at DFW was little later than they anticipated. I was on the ground at about 9:30pm, and then I had to wait on luggage, the tram to terminal B, and find my truck again. After all that and my drive home, it was about 10:45pm. Not as good as my original plan, but it was better than spending the night on an airplane or in an airport.