It's just after 7am and already it's been a bit of a trying day.
As we took off from Ottawa I couldn't help but imagine that the plane might crash.
And not just because I pretty much always feel that way when I'm on an airplane.
But because so many odds seemed to stack themselves against me this morning!
My strategy?
Ignore ignore. Delete delete.
So when we didn't hear Brad's phone alarm at 4am this morning and he miraculously woke up on his own (and then woke me) at 4:30 instead, I thought to myself "Okay, alright, okayyyy, it's alright. You can't turn back time. Just keep moving as though 4:30 was the original plan".
I got up, fed the baby without really waking him for the day (I hope anyway. I don't really know. I didn't stick around to see if he fell back to sleep.)
I was on the road by 5am, at the Park n' Fly by 5:40, and at the Porter check in desk by 5:50.
Speed bump number two: I happen to notice as I'm whizzing past the flight board that the Porter 6:45am flight says CANCELLED in big bold letters beside it.
Again my "ignore" strategy comes in handy.
Because how can you freak out about something that you refuse to take note of? It's nearly impossible.
Besides, I've paid for a flight.
I have my itinerary in hand.
New York's not going anywhere.
Certainly this is someone else's problem.
Kink in the plans number three: Disgruntled Porter agent on a mission to ruin someone's day...but not mine!
Our conversation:
Me: "Good morning!" (handing over itinerary and passport)
Grumpy Bum: (staring down my luggage) "Even if you're taking that as a carry on you still have to put it on the scale."
Me: "Oh. Sorry. (putting luggage on scale) Um. So I did the pre-check in online, but wasn't able to print it. I should be checked in already."
Grumpy Bum: (checking her computer) "Your flight is cancelled."
Me: "Sooooooo. What are my options?"
Grumpy Bum: "I'll have to put you on the 6:15am"
Me: "Perfect. Glad I got here in time."
Grumpy Bum: "Did you input your info online yourself?"
Me: "Yes"
Grumpy Bum: "Well your information is all wrong. This passport number doesn't match. What number did you enter?"
Me: (pointing to BIG BOLD NUMBERS at the TOP of my passport) "Those ones"
Grumpy Bum: "That's not your passport number. Now you've locked me out of the system because I have to correct your mistake."
Me: "Well that's unfortunate. Sorry about that."
Grumpy Bum: "Hey Linda. You won't be able to check your customer in for a minute. This passenger has me locked out of the system."
Me: (to myself) "I'm totally reporting you. Nadiaaaa"
Grumpy Bum: "Ok. I'm holding the plane for you (keep in mind I was early for my original flight). Your connecting flight is at 8:45am.
Me: "Um. My itinerary says 9:45."
Grumpy Bum: "No ma'am. Your flight to Newark is at 8:45am"
Me: (passing her my dog earred itinerary) "I'm meeting a friend in Toronto and we're flying together. We've already picked the seats and everything."
Grumpy Bum: (silently ticking away at her keyboard. I can literally see the smoke coming from her ears. Literally. Never seen anything like it. She hands me my boarding pass. Says nothing.)
Me: "So. What flight am I on then?"
Grumpy Bum: "The same one."
Me: (oh my god I'm going to murder this woman) "The same one I originally booked? Or the same one you just told me?"
Grumpy Bum: "The same one."
Seriously?
She couldn't just tell me the time?
It suddenly hit me that with my boarding pass in hand I didn't need her to tell me anymore, I could just look at what was printed on the ticket.
It said 9:45am.
I looked at her, gave her a cheery "Thanks so much!" which in no way matched the glare on my face and rolled away.
People!
I don't think this is a good representation of Porter however. Everyone else I've encountered has been lovely.
The man trying to get me down example four: I am randomly selected for a full body scan and pat down at security.
I instantly regret not answering "Yes" to the "Do you have any liquids?" question.
It's just contact solution.
I can't be bothered to hunt down a convenience store when we get to New York.
My first visit to the big apple is way too glamourous for something like that.
In New York, I have perfect vision. Laser eye surgery. 20/20.
Besides, if they find it, I'll pretend I totally forgot.
I'll ignore it.
This isn't too much of a hassle really. Except that it's hard to play cool when you're being patted down and people are staring.
It took only a minute and nobody confiscated my contact stuff.
But by now it's 6:15 and apparently that's when the flight leaves, and even though I'm pretty sure they know I'm coming, part of me has to wonder if the aforementioned bitch called to let them know.
So far the trip ups seem to have ended.
The flight from Ottawa to Toronto was quick and painless, and Melissa will be here to keep me company any minute.
See you Sunday!
Em
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