I would like to share the greatest travel story of my season with you and, believe it or not, it does not have anything to do with students or their insane essays (example: "I may look good on paper, but I look WAY better in person!!") or goofy things they ask at college fairs (example: "Don't you have any girls at your school? All I see are bachelor degrees...don't you offer bachelorette degrees?"). I had just finished a very good, very productive week of travel in southwestern New Jersey. I even got to see some good travel buddies!! The morning I was due to fly out of Philadelphia (a Friday), my father and youngest brother decided to meet me for breakfast. It was such a treat (a very early treat...but a treat nonetheless)! I'd say that little punky was excited, too:
I mean, seriously, look at that grin. While we were eating, the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number (a bill collector, perhaps???) and ignored it. We finished eating, said our good byes and I headed to the airport. Two hours of driving later, I decide to check my messages. That phone call I missed? Yeah. It was USAir calling to tell me my flight had been canceled due to weather (it was sunny with a tiny breeze). I found a rest stop and called back, trying to get my flight rescheduled. They currently had me scheduled to leave at 3pm on Saturday which, in any normal life would have worked, but 1) I was out of money 2) I had to teach a dance class at 10am on Saturday and 3) I had to zoom to Clemson so I could work at a tailgating event after dance. Nope. Gotta be home on Friday. Let's try another airport. The people working at USAir's customer service were really nice. The lady told me that she could get me out of Newark today! YES! I said, book it - and I hurried to New Jersey.
I was at the Enterprise counter about to turn in my keys when the phone rang. Guess who? "USAir...your flight has been canceled." SHIT. "Hey, just kidding...I will need that car back." OK. Let's reschedule now for the third time. "How about Kennedy? There's a 5pm out tonight." Sweet God. OK! Let's go!!! Off to Kennedy I went. Got to the Enterprise counter. So far, so good. Turned my keys in god my print out of charges. RING RING. USAir again. Now I am mad, hungry, tired and super crabby. This makes for a lousy combination. "There is an 8pm flight leaving LaGuardia at 8pm." I figure, what the hell? I've come this far - why not just drive to Queens?! And I did.
It is now about 4:30pm. I make it to LGA. Return my rental car (and pay another outrageous fee - and don't forget, I am broke, so it hurt), get on the shuttle, check in for my flight, find the gate and can now FINALLY relax because it seriously appears I am getting home tonight! I called my friend, Christine, to say hello (because now I have time and I finally stopped panting long enough to hold a conversation). We were mid-chat when I heard the voice over the loudspeaker say that my flight was canceled. @%&*!!! I hang up with Christine and call USAir back. Again, they were really nice. Now, however, the only flight they can put me on will be Sunday. Fine. Book it. Looks like I am going to spend the weekend at my dad's house.
I call and tell him the scoop. "I'll come get you, Skip." 5pm. Rush hour. Friday night. Queens. Dad won't make it here until 8. "No, that's ok, Dad. I will take the train back home." **First stupid move.
How am I going to get my broke self (literally broke in every way: money, spirit, hope) to Grand Central? A bus for $13?? Hook me up!
I'm not hard to miss when I travel. My Vera Bradley obsession has hit an all time high and I've got at least 5 pieces (different patterns) that I travel with at all times. Not to mention the various pocketbooks, wallets, notebooks, lunch sacks, etc. that are also used on a daily basis. The woman helping passengers to board the correct bus saw that I was in disarray. I asked her when the next bus to Grand Central was due to arrive. She says in about 45 minutes. Great! I told her I was going to run inside for a second to use the restroom and that I would be right back. I went inside, peed, came out and was told that I missed the bus. What? It's OK; I will just wait for the next one. While I am waiting, my dad called. I couldn't hear him, so I went inside for 3 minutes. When I came out, I was told I missed the bus again. Now I am extra mad. "I looked all over for you...". Really? No you didn't. This time I stayed put and finally - an hour later - got on a bus. Because of the missed buses, I also missed the last peak train, which meant I had to wait another hour+ before the next one was ready to leave. Eh, I'll go grab a snack. That's how I ended up in Midtown.
Water? Check! Snack? Check! Now I'm feeling better. I make it back to the train station and realize people are dressed for a Halloween party (it was a few weeks before after all). So I ate my snack and stared for a good 20 minutes (oh, and took pictures).
I boarded the train. 70 minutes and I will be back on Chestnut Street. Thank God. I met a chatty little brat on the train who laid all over me, messed with my pants and loudly talked the entire ride. Let's add insult to injury. Honestly, she didn't shut up. I told her to talk to her mom. "Mommy headphones on. I talk to you." Hmm. Mommy's sick of listening to you, I see.
After texting the whole train ride, my phone is now dead. SAD! Finally, the train makes the stop in South Norwalk where I am going to switch and get on the train to Dad's. I go inside to check which platform I need to be on... "BUS". Bus? No, no. This must be a misprint. I follow the herd outside where, believe it or not, there was a bus waiting for us.
Can this night get any more insane!? Yes! There were 2 buses: one that made a few stops and ended in Bethel, and another that made a several stops and ended in Danbury. I got on the Bethel bus along with about 10 others. We were about to pull away from the station when 2 women and their 8 kids started chasing the bus. The bus stopped and let them on. Mistake #1. The kids shouted loudly on the bus about how they liked apples and what kind of socks was everyone on the bus wearing (SHUT UP!!!). We were 2 stops in when one of the women makes her way to the front of the bus. "We are on the wrong bus." Are you kidding me right now? Nope. They needed to go to Danbury. The bus driver tries to tell her that's too bad. She wasn't having it. So we stop in Branchville and idle for a good 30 minutes so the Danbury bus can catch up to us. Now, I don't really know if it was the snack I had in Manhattan or the bumpy bus ride or what, but when we stopped, I felt really sick to my stomach. I got off the bus to "get some air" and puked my guts out. How embarrassing. The Danbury bus finally arrives. We unload the ladies who can't seem to see a difference in two 3'x4' signs that say DANBURY and BETHEL and their kids who can't seem to live without knowing which Disney princess is everyone's favorite. And we were off...again.
I know what you're asking yourself: can this night get any worse? Yes. It sure can! The bus starts to skip a little. And I think we maybe hit something. Nope. Out of gas. The bus ran out of gas. Let me repeat this: THE BUS RAN OUT OF GAS. When the bus driver asked if anyone had a AAA card, I almost fell over.
Someone came to our rescue, we gassed up, and headed to Bethel. Officially the worst/weirdest day/night ever.
I didn't think I was going to ever make it to my dad's house, but I did. At 11pm that night. I could have driven back to South Carolina in less time than it took me to zip around the tri-state. I also learned to pack extra snacks (maybe astronaut food), not drink so much coffee, and to bring a refillable water bottle at all times, not just when it will fit into my suitcase. Glad I got to see this little face for 2 extra days though:
And that, kids, ends my seemingly tall, but very true, tale.
