On Sunday, the day before I was scheduled to leave, I received a call from US Airways. My plan had been to fly from Detroit to Philadelphia to Manchester. They had overbooked the flight from Philadelphia to Manchester (shock!), and were wondering if I would add a connection in London and take a bump on my flight out of Detroit. This would be done in exchange for flying Business Class on the long haul to London's Gatwick Airport. Seriously? First Class instead of coach for a seven-hour flight? All to arrive later in the day on Tuesday, thus inconveniencing my colleague less? Twist my arm, US Airways, just a little bit more! I should've asked for Business Class on the way back, too - lesson learned.
The three flights to get to Manchester were uneventful. The long haul to London was great - after 3 glasses of red wine and a dinner of Mahi-Mahi, I snuggled up with a blanket, reclined my seat all the way back with no fear of irritating the person behind me, and promptly fell asleep while listening to the Saw Doctors. I woke just as we were preparing to land. I've had a few people ask why I didn't booze it up on the flight since the drinks were free. And I realized I've grown up a bit as sleep seemed like the better option when compared to a hang-over.
The two flights back to Detroit weren't quite as pleasant. I arrived at the Manchester airport on time, which was 8:00 am Monday morning (3:00 am for my Eastern time zone friends). The flight left on time, and arrived in Philadelphia 30 minutes early, which all sounds wonderful. But when that scenario is paired with being crammed in a coach seat, with a shrieking child behind me, who didn't seem inclined to either sleep or stop shrieking (and it was a shriek, not a scream or a cry - I don't have kids, but I do know the difference), and with a very nice, yet sleepy, Irishman in front of me who did seem inclined to recline his seat as far as possible for the entire trip, it made for a long, uncomfortable seven hours. I plugged away at reading a book I started a few months ago (Reading Lolita in Tehran), listened to some music, and finally gave in to the temptation in front of me - the in-flight entertainment. I watched the movie 21 (entertaining, but not something I would watch twice), and episode of The Office (directed by an author I have enjoyed - Paul Feig, who also created Freaks and Geeks, a show that should've been on the air much longer than it was), and an episode of Ugly Betty. The entertainment kept me sufficiently distracted until we landed.
Philly was an atrocious experience. It's a horrible airport. The TSA workers in particular were rude, especially to foreign visitors. You would think (or at least I would) that when greeting passengers from an international flight that the TSA workers would assume that some of the travelers may not speak English. Instead of using either a different language (I know, we're in the US, so certainly everyone should only speak English, right?!? What a welcoming attitude...) or maybe some nonverbal communication, they just spoke much louder and more insistently, in a very unpleasant way. That aside, after I got off the plane, I made my way to the baggage claim, successfully found my suitcase, and went through immigration and customs without a problem. I was then herded into a line to re-check my suitcase for the impending flight from Philly to Detroit. I handed over my luggage, and was assured it would meet me in Detroit. After all, what could happen between Philly and Detroit?
I made my way to the F terminal, and stopped to pick up a few souvenirs. My boss made me promise to pick up a coffee mug for him from my trip. Certainly, he was implying that it should be from England, but they just don't have tchochke shops like we do, and even in the Manchester airport, I couldn't find anything remotely cheesy enough for my boss. So, a Philly coffee mug is now waiting to be delivered to him. I also bought myself a magnet. If you've seen my fridge, you'd understand - there's magnets from many great places plastered all over my fridge. See the picture below - it's quite a bit of irony, really.
I stopped for a bite to eat, called, mom, and made my way to F-7, where my flight 3774 was to depart. I watched as the posted departure time changed from 5:50 to 6:10, and thought, "No big deal - 20 more minutes..." Please feel free to take a moment to savor the foreshadowing. Around 5:15, 50 people crowded the F-7 terminal. The story went a little like this:
-The flight before mine left (3775), then turned around when the captain noted they were flying with only one engine and were suffering other mechanical difficulties.
-The passengers of 3775 were sent to F-7.
-We were all sent down to F-39.
-We were all sent back to F-7.
-My flight (3774) was sent back to F-39.
-We got on the plane, and went to taxi at the runway.
-We stopped, and were informed we were fifteenth in line to take off, which should take about 20 minutes. Uh, yeah, right...I was thinking a half-hour at least. This made it around 6:35.
-At 7, we were informed the captain was killing the engines, as there was "horrible" weather in Detroit and we couldn't take off until Metro gave the okay. I promptly called my mom, who reported blue skies and lots of sunshine. Fuck.
-At 7:40, or nearly and hour and a half of sitting on the tarmac, we finally took off, and had a nice, choppy landing at 9:00.
-I once again made my way to baggage claim, where I patiently waited for my luggage. I watch the carousel with baited breath, until I heard the noise nobody wants to hear - "BUZZ!!" The carousel stopped, and I stood there, shocked that my suitcase hadn't made it from Philly to Detroit, a non-stop flight. I shouldn't have been surprised.
-I stormed into the baggage office, and was promptly asked to wait outside while two workers attempted to help one customer (WTF?).
-A lady stepped out and asked if I was next in line. I responded, "I don't know - did you kick anyone out of the office before me?" Give me a break - I had been awake for 20+ hours at that point. I filed my lost baggage claim and wandered outside to find mom and dad, who were on their way to pick me up.
-I found mom and dad, who had graciously packed a sandwich and a diet coke for me for the ride home. I showed them my pictures, filled them in on the trip, and made my way back to Lansing, arriving shortly before midnight. It was a long day.
My luggage was finally delivered the next day at 7 in the evening.
And here is the magnet, gracing my fridge:
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