In which I complain about air travel

So I work in Atlantic Beach, FL and I live in Chicago. So that means I spend a bunch of time on a plane every week. But this week I was best man in a wedding… in Seattle, WA. You know, the exact opposite corner of the lower 48 and not so easy to get to, as it turns out. I had cleverly arranged to connect through Chicago so I could meet my wife at O’Hare and then fly together to the land of coffee. But, of course, my plane was delayed. I got off the plane at O’Hare at 5:12 pm to make a connection at 5:15. Now I’m a large man these days but I did manage to run from the C concourse to the B in about 6 minutes – about 2 minutes too late to get on that plane. And all the flights to Seattle that night? Full. So my lovely wife gets to spend a night alone in Seattle while I sleep alone in our bed in Chicago. Nice. Then it’s up at 4am to catch a 6am to Denver, to catch a flight to L.A., and then off to Seattle.

As I type this I’m sitting on a plane in Washington, D.C.. I’ve been on this plane for over 2 hours but we haven’t actually done anything except take a tour around the tarmac and then head back to the gate for more fuel. Awesome. We spent so much time waiting for “de-icing” that we had to go back. Everybody’s being pretty jackassian about it. The lady next too me said, with no warning, “Hey mister, your going to need to move that arm of yours!” My elbow was touching her, you see.

Here’s the breakdown of yesterday’s commute to work:

10:00am get in car to go to airport in Seattle, WA.

12:30pm get on plane.

8:30pm (EST) get off plane.

10:30pm get on plane that has been delayed for an hour.

2:00am plane actually leaves the ground.

3:40am plane lands in Jacksonville, FL.

4:30am I get to my hotel.


Tomorrow I’ll post some pictures of the wedding – I’m going to bed.

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