DCA to DFW

I’m in Dallas (or, more specifically, the Grapevine/ Southlake area) once again! I was scheduled to fly out at 6 a.m. Monday morning, but with the mother of all storms heading up the East Coast, I switched it to fly out on Sunday afternoon. I do feel bad – Mike’s really sick. It’s the kind of sick I can’t do anything about: he’s congested and has a sore throat, so he really just needs rest and fluids. And when he’s sick, he prefers to be alone and miserable. But he also wants to know that someone is there in case he feels like complaining or wants something. Which, I guess, is completely normal. The only thing worse than being sick is being sick alone.

But I think he understands why I took the earlier flight. The thought of going for my 6 a.m. flight on Monday and then standing around because of delays until noon just turns my stomach. I’d rather get into Grapevine, have a normal dinner, and get to bed early (Did I mention Mike’s cold also comes with coughing? A lot of it.)

Here’s my amusing story from the airport today:

We were all waiting to board, and it was very crowded at the airport. The plane came in a few minutes late, so when I went down to the gate at the boarding time, they were still letting people off the plane before ours. That just meant we all waited around an extra 20 minutes.

This guy, his teenage (maybe preteen) daughter and wife were next to me. They kept crowding up on me, forcing me to take a step away, and then they’d continue to crowd up.

They finally called first class boarding (oh? I didn’t mention I was upgraded?), and the guy shoves me out of the way to rush the gate. I start to take a step towards the gate, and the wife says, “oh, we can board with him,” to the daughter. So they start following behind me. The guy had completely left them. I stepped to the side and said, “please, after you,” to let them all go up together. (Not saying that because I’m all great. I just knew if I didn’t, one of them would cause a commotion about being separated. Thinking ahead, I was.)

The AA crew taking our tickets wouldn’t let the guy board with his bag. I admit, it was one on the edge. I think the size would have been ok going sideways, but it was overstuffed – even the outside pockets were stuffed to the gills. So she said, “sorry, you’re going to need to check that.” Now, it’s a really, really full flight. He stops to make a fuss, raising his voice, saying he fit it on the way up here, and 100,000 miles with American last year with this bag and why were they giving him a problem, etc., etc.

Meanwhile, the AA crew woman lets the wife and daughter through. I go. He’s still arguing about the bag.

I board, and see the wife and daughter in the first row of coach. He finally walks on (sans bag) and sits down next to me. Naturally.

I hope they don’t mind being able to see him with his whiskey on the rocks, chicken parm lunch and warm chocolate chip cookie.

So there you go! The glamorous life of travel! I’m writing this on the plane, and I’ll post it up tonight before I go to bed. I’m so anxious to hear how much snow actually does hit!