Turbulence On A Trip With My Ex-Wife (Part Two)
Read part one here
We landed in Dallas almost an hour late, but still needed to make our connecting flight to Oklahoma City. We landed in Terminal C and needed to be in Terminal A in about forty-minutes. What I was about to learn was forty-minutes, inside an airport, goes by in the blink of an eye.
For those who travel, after a plane lands, it takes forever to actually get their luggage and leave.
Why?
Because everyone takes their time retrieving their belongings from the over head, or from under their seats. Or, in the case of our flight, wait while a father re-constructs a stroller in the aisle for his three kids.
Every one stands at once, but no one moves. And I’m sure that many of those standing and waiting have connecting flights as well, but no one says anything.
No one, that is, except for my ex-wife, Arlene.
“Come on, people,” she shouted into the stifled air, “some people have connecting flights, they need to get off.”
That did nothing to move people along, and did everything to catch the dozens of dirty looks tossed in our direction.
When we finally were able to move down the aisle, and as the flight attendants wished us a good day, Arlene offered her advice. She recommended that, in the future, they should let people with connecting flights off the plane first.
“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” one replied, “and you have a good day.”
My ex-wife, changing the way that people will fly.
Since that flight, I wondered if what happened next was in direct proportion to Arlene’s advice to the attendants.
Before we left the plane, Arlene did ask one the attendant by the exit to double check our connecting flight. She reassured us that, yes, we needed to go to Terminal A (we currently were in Terminal C).
Dallas is a big airport. To get from Terminal A to Terminal C required us to take an escalator (tallest escalator I have ever seen) then wait for a Tram.
We did just that and, upon arriving at our gate in Terminal A, were informed that the gate had changed and we needed to go back to Terminal C.
Was this pay back for Arlene’s unsolicited advice to the attendant? The world may never know
Actually, there is no ‘may’ about it, we will never know.
Sabotage or not, tic-toc-tic-toc.
Time was on the run and, unfortunately, so were we.
I’m old, carrying luggage, over weight and out of shape. The last thing I should be doing on a Thursday night in Texas is run through an airport to catch a flight.
And, yet, there I was.
Back to the Tram, and again, we wait.
On the platform, we spoke to a man in full uniform. When he heard our plight, he was nice enough to doubled-check our departure time. He reassured us we’d make our flight.
“Are you a pilot?” Arlene asked the man in full uniform.
Taken aback, he smiled and joked, “What gave me away?”
“Obviously, your hat,” I said.
Took the Tram back to Terminal C, then down the three story escalator.
By this point Arlene, who does run everyday, was half a football field ahead of me, already at the counter. Two employees, and the pilot, listened as Arlene told them not to close the gate, and pointed toward me.
“If he has a heart attack,” she threatened, “it will be your fault.”
It was not an idle threat. In that moment, carrying luggage and running through the airport, a heart attack was definitely within my wheelhouse.
The pilot stayed with Arlene, I believe, to keep them from closing the gate until I got there.
And get there we did. We were the last two people to board, and more dirty looks tossed our way as we headed down the aisle to our seats.
Its a very short hop to Oklahoma City from Dallas, and a much smaller airport. No running this time, just a leisure walk to baggage claim where, Arlene still insisted, that her bag would not be there.
Spoiler alert, it was.
Dennis, Arlene’s ‘fiance’, who arrived a day earlier in Oklahoma City, waited for us outside the terminal in rental car. He also had a predetermined bottle of scotch for me, and a bottle of white wine for Arlene, to decompress after our travels.
First night, we stayed at a hotel close to the airport. Once there, we went to our rooms, dropped off luggage, found glasses and ice, and commiserated in the Radisson Hotel lobby with drinks in hand about our trip.
It’s was a long day, but finally in Oklahoma City, with the wedding festivities to look forward to over the next few days.
So, what did we learn from all this?
No over sized toiletries? Check.
Consolidate and carry smaller luggage? Check.
Don’t do connecting flights? Check.
Less travel (at least for me)? Double-check.
