Flying in Circles...

I started this post on Friday morning when I was at LAX waiting for my flight to Tulsa. I was in a high-and-mighty mood, complaining about how airline terminals were basically bus stations now, and that we had become a nation of traveling hobos. In our “eclectic” outfits of random t-shirts (Gumby? Fake tuxedo shirt? “Got F__k?” Reeeeeeally, people?), combined with sock monkey pajama pants and flip flops, we are dressed as if we hit the church rummage sale on the way to the airport. And the roly carry-on bag with various items bungeed onto it is apparently the shopping cart of the 21^st century. We are a bum. The bum is us.

Yes, indeed, I was on a holier-than-thou roll. Discovering that I had a whole row to myself on the plane only served to confirm my superior status. I settled in for the ride as United 3168 took off on time, made that wide turn over the ocean, and headed east.

I had a book and a diet coke and the two and a half hours passed quickly. I was actually surprised when I felt the plane begin to angle down, beginning our descent into very cold, snowy Tulsa. And then it angled back up. Apparently, in the course of about 20 minutes, Tulsa went from snowy to closed. As in, nobody landing or taking off; as in, until tomorrow. There was no circling the airport or waiting to see about snowplows or any other such nonsense. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are diverting to Kansas City.”

Well, all righty then. I was sure it was all about fuel and such, so no worries, let’s get this baby on the ground. Besides, I had to pee. Really. So, put the pedal to the medal, Captain Mike, let’s go.

Twenty-five minutes later we were on the ground at MCI, waiting for a customer service person to come and explain our options. Twenty minutes later I pushed my way through folks standing in the aisle back to the bathroom. Hey, a tiny, slightly overused toilet is better than none, if you know what I mean.

Finally, we were let into the gate lounge area – but not allowed to leave it due to security issues. Have I mentioned that there was no food on the flight? I climbed into the SuperShuttle at 9:15am after a hearty breakfast of coffee and toast. Flight left at 11:45; landed in Kansas City around 3:30p; deplaned around 4p. I was really hungry. Oh, right, so was everyone else. The poor man at the one little food kiosk within our “secure” area was caught up in a stampede of people willing to trade sexual favors for a pre-packaged “Caesar-style” salad. (What does that mean? “Style”? Is that like “ish”? Must remember to research that…) I grabbed the last Cinnabon on the shelf. The look in that 7-year-old’s eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life, but hey, kid, life is hard. Learn to deal.

We were offered the choice to stay the night in KC and hope for better flying conditions the next morning, or to fly back to LA. Hmmmm. Let’s think. Snow and freezing rain and an airport hotel room I had to pay for, or a trip back to sunshine and my own bed. Sorry, Mom. Love you, mean it, but gotta go! I’ll be back when the pass is open.

So, five of us flew back. Yeah, I know, right? Five! That meant one flight attendant for every 2.5 passengers. We even got the “premium” snack mix – pretzels AND almonds. Livin’ the life, baby, livin’ the life.

Back in LA at 8:25; luggage at 9p. Yes, even with FIVE bags, it took a half hour for them to get to baggage claim. What EVER. Cab home. Pizza ordered on the way; delivered 10 minutes after I walked in the door. I am, if nothing else, organized.

All in all, it was a very strange lost day in the airspace over the western US. But, hey, we got vouchers. I can reschedule my trip to Tulsa at no charge, plus I got enough vouchers for another trip. Not a bad day’s work.