I’ve traveled a lot. I’ve booked a lot of flights and always make good time getting through airports and connecting flights. Truth be told, I’m typically overly conservative and leave at least an hour layover just in case things are delayed or there is a big gap in between connecting gates. I’d rather be early at a gate and just sitting and chilling than running through airports. Today, however, something went horribly wrong. I’m sure I had that hour of buffer time in between my flights but i had no idea that we would be landing in Dallas and taxiing to Houston from there. Literally (not literally). We did taxi the runway for like half an hour though, or so it seemed.
When we were approaching the gate, I checked my mobile boarding pass for the gate and boarding time of the next flight. Shortly after that, my cell service was restored and I got a text from Rebecca saying “where are you”. To that I replied “still on the plane. We arrived at the B terminal and I needed to book it to gate E16, just a million miles away. I hurried as fast as a person can off of the plane and rushed down the hall. It was halls, and escalators, and a tram and more halls and I sprinted every inch I could. This time literally means literally.
When I arrived at gate E16 in Houston, the lady at the gate gave me a look and I said is this the flight to Cancun. I could see the plane was still there and attached to the walkway. She said, it is, but you can’t get on it. It’s too late, the gate has been sealed. First time for everything I guess.
SHe said without looking up “just a minute maaaam”. OK. I could feel my face get hot and my eyes were already filling with tears as a bunch of uneasy thoughts took over. My friends were on that flight and they all have transportation booked from the Airport to the resort because we are paranoid about being in a foreign country which is not entirely safe. And I’m alone. And.. and.. and now what???!!! 😭
Rebecca texted from the plane. “We are pulling away”. Yeah, I could see that. Finally the gate agent looked up from her screen and asked for my info. I gave her my last name and she proceeded to very unsympathetically book me for the next flight. As if – it was somehow my fault that I missed my flight. I had clearly sprinted through the airport and arrived out of breath. I clearly was on the verge of tears. I clearly did not know what I was supposed to do. All I wanted, for all the times I have shown someone kindness in the face of uncertainty, was that I be given that same in return. She handed me my ticket and told me the gate. That was my queue to go ahead and have my mini-breakdown. Which I did, right then and there.
I didn’t head for that other gate, I sat right down in a chair and pulled my backpack close to my chest, phone and ticket in hand, and openly sobbed. I didn’t care. I needed that release. It’s not like the end of the world, but it is not how this day was supposed to go. I had been up since 4AM for the universe’s sake and was hungry and had to pee and now sitting in Houston at E16 alone (except for the dozens of people walking by). At that moment, the smell of airport pizza did make me nauseous.
After that I collected my things. I’ve travelled alone before and I wasn’t born in a barn, so as soon as I was able to use the restroom and regain my composure, I headed toward my new gate. E9 (which for some unknown reason is miles away from E16). Stupid Houston Airport. When I arrived, I had exactly two hours to figure out my transportation situation and figure my way out of feeling like I wanted to punch someone in the face. (Apparently that is how missing a flight makes a person feel).
I called the resort to book transportation. My cell plan does not have international calling so it would not go through. I then proceeded to call my cell provider and activate international calling on my plan. For a mere 15 dollars a month, you too can call Mexico from the United States. Who knew? Once that was done, I called the resort back and tried to understand the person on the phone who was helping me. He connected me to the concierge who transferred me to another company where I spoke to a person who said they did not do same day reservations.
Then I tried to contact the company I knew Steph booked through. Same result. They need 48 hours to reserve transporation. WOnderful. I then called the resort back and explained to the woman on the phone again. She said private transportation is 65 dollars. Hmmm, OK – sign me up. Honestly, it only cost a fraction of that for advance reservation but if my choice is between a reputable company working with the resort or rolling the dice with taking a random taxi – 65 is a great deal. They probably know that.
Anyway. I’m just getting ready to board my flight now and I feel like I have been up for a million years. All the peeps around me seem pretty pumped to be going to Cancun. As for me, I just feel like I need a nap and/or a drink. (Although I truly did completely lose my appetite). Stupid Houston Airport.
Trying to Get the Party Started, but It’s Just not Cooperating,