When passing through O'Hare

Several years ago I arrived at the ticket counter in the early hours of the morning, for an interview fly-out only to be told that, while the agent could see a reservation had been created, it hadn’t completely been processed and I was, therefore, not actually on the flight. For $900 we could all correct this matter and I’d be on my way. I could not reach anyone there to ask what happened and so  plunked down my credit card and hoped that my separation from $900 was only temporary. (It was. The hiring team was admittedly more than a shade embarrassed when I explained the issue to them later that morning.)

For the duration of my visit, wave after wave of ferocious storms swept across the Philadelphia metro area. The weather was no different when it came time to leave; not surprisingly the blue lights that signaled a full ground stop were in full view when the cab pulled to the curb. “You’re going to have a long night,” the cab driver told me, helpfully, before speeding off in a driving rain. Indeed. Naturally, however, it would be hours before the flight would be canceled. After waiting for an hour for the gate agent to rebook me on a flight the following morning, I was faced with the option of sleeping in the terminal or queueing for a room at the airport hotel. Obviously I opted for the latter, hoping again that my prospective employer would not honestly expect a job candidate to sleep in the terminal. (At the time I was correct; nearly a decade later, I’m not so sure that equation still holds true.) 

In the wee hours of the morning, on one of the first flights down the runway, I headed toward home, via O’Hare. Here I was met with a mechanical delay – one of the seats was broken and, although this was not a full flight, we could not board until the issue was resolved – followed by one of the inexplicable delays for which that airport is notorious. Settled into 1C the flight attendant facing me shrugged her shoulders and said, “You know what they say about this airport, don’t you?” I did not. “Time to spare, fly through O’Hare.” She smiled and opened her book.