You know how it is when you are watching the news and there is bad weather somewhere and there are people stranded at the airport and you are like, thank god that isn’t me?

Today it IS me. Stuck in fucking HOUSTON of all places. Everyone knows how much I love it here.

I’ve been working here at few days at the Texas Wine and Grapegrowers conference, and today I was oh, so ready to get home. I was so ready I showed up for my flight five hours early, hoping to stand by on something earlier. And yes, I called; I called yesterday and they said it would be no problem to stand by, through Dallas and on to San Diego. An hour before I left for the airport, I called and they said the flights were now full, but I wanted to get the fuck out of dodge so bad I decided to go to the airport and pray.

So I got to the airport and what did I see? A long string of CANCELLED all the way down the board. I got a really yicky feeling in my stomach. The line was already long. I started asking people how long it would take to drive to Santa Fe, New Mexico. (Too long.)

So there we are all in the Houston airport, all pretty much screwed, with a non-moving line. The thought of staying the night, much less two or three, was making me feel queasy. A woman came around with little squares of paper with a phone number to CALL American while we were in line. So I called, and the wait was twenty-two minutes, but a super cool guy behind me got through before I did (he was on the phone to them way before that lady started passing out the phone numbers) and he let me talk to the agent after he was done.

The agent was like, well, can you fly from Hobby Airport? And I was like, I’ll do whatever you want, just get me out of here. And she told me she had ONE seat on Monday.

“NO.” I told her. “I ABSOLUTELY cannot wait until Monday, I have to get out TOMORROW.” I wasn’t mean, or bitchy, but there must be something resembling angst or desperation in my voice because she put me on hold for a really long time and then came back and told me she got me on a non-stop on Continental, first thing tomorrow.

Here the poor guy who lent me his phone had to wait around for me for like twenty minutes. As I was thanking him profusely, practically offering sex (no not really but you get the idea) he said “we’re all in the same boat” and walked away.

If I would have arrived later, I would have been screwed. Well actually, I probably would be DRIVING home right now. I am telling you, I would not spend another day here. I wouldn’t.

So I am here at the Hilton Garden Inn where the airport van is bringing another ten stranded passengers every fifteen minutes. I can’t believe I am getting out tomorrow.

Well I gotta go, because all these people are walking by looking meaningfully at this computer. Tomorrow, I will write about some of the crazy shit that was going through my head about an hour ago as I sipped from a crappy glass of pinot grigio on a barren strip of land with nothing, and I mean nothing, on it except for a bunch of boring airport hotels on it.

It could be worse, but it could be better. How come I never get stranded in Paris?

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 24th, 2007 at 4:19 pm and is filed under Tales from a Strange Land. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.