First Time for Everything

Ugh. Isn't it the truth?

Today, for the first time, I missed a flight.

Now, Kira was there the only other time that I came close to missing a flight. We were young and in France in the Spring of '06. Because of a scheduling conflict involving obligations in Vatican City, Kira and I found ourselves loosed on Paris without the benefit of an escort. At the time, we were studying in Prague as part of a very shoddily constructed, semester long, public university program housed in a seminary -- you can imagine the everyday struggles. We made the most of our unpoliced time by going to EuroDisney and watching the same damn episode of Top of the Pops three times (Flaming Lips, "Yeah Yeah Yeah" and the Pet Shop Boys, "I'm with Stupid"). We capped off our weekend in The City of Lights by nearly missing our flight out of it. There was a disagreement over the train. There were some harsh words spoken waiting for the next train to take us in the opposite direction. There was a fair amount of running through a very long tunnel of some sort and there was some frantic, awkward communication with the French airport costumer service persons. They were... not at all concerned. As it turned out, my former roommate and I hated each other for about an hour and then quickly got over it when we realized our flight was delayed and we were fine. Then bored, but ultimately fine.

So, you see, I've been through hectic. The BIA is not what I would call hectic. We have three gates. Two are usually in operation. Instead of making announcements over a loud speaker, the attendants just yell. And not even that loudly. There is no bathroom after security because, let's face it, if they added a bathroom, they'd lose half their seating. Personally, I have flown in and out of BIA six times in the last 20 months. I've dropped off and picked up another four times. All of these visits were successful. It only makes sense that my most time sensitive flight would be the one I miss.

This morning I got up at 5am and readied myself for a very quick trip home. I'm surprising my mom tonight, and I'm quite excited about it. I checked off the last few things on my "morning of" list and I headed downstairs without my phone. I went back upstairs and didn't find it. I came back down and discovered it in my bag. I went out the front door without my toothbrush and came back in to grab it. Having grabbed it, I noticed it was still damp and had to go into the kitchen for a ziploc. When I finally got out of my house, I had to go a few minutes in the wrong direction to get some cash from my bank. You can see how I ended up running just a little late.

Long story... well... anyway, I got to the airport just under 30 minutes early. I was so close to being allowed to check-in that the Continental reservations woman that I had to call to rebook was surprised that they didn't let me in. I was booked on an 1-800 number, provided credit card information (it takes a while to read off all those numbers), then walked sadly all the way back to my car in the long term parking lot, and turned it on all before my scheduled departure time of 6:25am. More than enough time to clear security at BIA that probably didn't have anyone in line for it anyway.

But I'm not mad. A little bit ticked with myself? Certainly. Now that the sun has come up (nearly an hour after I arrived home), I'm even amused by the whole thing.

Here are the good things about missing my 6:25am flight and being confirmed on a 1:30pm flight:

1. I can work on my Duddy Kravitz paper. Can. Will? I don't know yet.

2. I got to have breakfast. Food is important when flying but I usually forget about it.

3. Since my roommate left on Feb. 27th, I have been slowly but surely cleaning and straightening our entire house. Now I can put away the clean dishes and empty out the refrigerator before she comes home this afternoon. By that point, the apartment will be embarrassingly neat.

4. I'm sure I was seated next to a large, sweaty, hairy man and his crying baby on the 6:25 flight. My 1:30 flight compatriot will be small, gorgeous, witty, and just the perfect amount of talkative. Or, I'll just have an open seat.

5. Now that my flight is getting in later, my Dad can pick me up from the airport. My plan was to take the bus from the airport to either my Dad's shop or my mom's office which is within walking distance of my home. However, I am not too keen on riding the HRT at night, neither is my dad. Problem solved.

6. Since I only paid $18 for the original flight, the $50 same-day reschedule fee is not really that much of a blow. A flight from Maine to Virginia for $68 is still a remarkable deal.

I should really get to work on 1 and 3 now. Such early rising really does encourage productivity, doesn't it? Also... napping.