A Busted Bird
in Giggles on May 7, 2013
I know that my Faithful Five have been sitting on pins and needles ALL DAY waiting for me to post about my near-air disastrous experience this past December in which the ever-so-polite Sky Goddess asked my mortified husband and hysterical self to deplane. It all started with my husband’s new job. He’s now gainfully employed in the Oil & Gas business. This type of business requires frequent trips out to west Texas and other places in the country where large quantities of land and railroad intersect. THAT, in itself could be another post. The long and short of it is this: through his new business connections we found ourselves on the receiving end of a super-double-fabulous end of a swanky cross-country train trip. Yes, I said train trip, as in rail road…like in the old time black & white movies of a time long gone.
Neither one of us had ever been on a train before. Subways and airport shuttles DO NOT count as real trains. THIS was a train! We were supposed to fly from Houston up to Chicago, board the train, ride the train down to New Orleans, Louisiana, have dinner and see the city, and then ride the train back up to Chicago and fly home. The trip was to take about four days. All I could think about was the itinerary the train company sent over. There was a dress code! No jeans. It was a dress-for-dinner type of event. There was a Club Car! Jeff and I were included on this trip with three other couples. Granted, as the trip started, we didn’t know these couples, but being trapped in a train for a few days changes things!
The trip was fantastic. I’ve never experienced anything like it. What I haven’t mentioned, is this: I don’t always travel well. Oh, I usually have a great time once I get to where I’m going…it’s just getting me there that tends to be the issue. Jeff and I have discovered that it is better for everyone in my general vicinity if I am heavily medicated, or at the very least, have a made a trip or two to the closest bar before take-off. Now, on the trip UP to Chicago, I discovered that I had forgotten my medication that keeps me relatively calm. But, I think that my excitement about my impending train trip was great enough to keep my mind occupied for the trip North. The trip home was a completely different story.
Jeff and I arrived at the airport a bit early and wanted to catch an earlier flight home. We were slightly surprised that United was able to get us on the flight that was slated to take off about an hour and a half before our original flight. The only kicker with flying stand-by is that we would not be able to sit together. My blood pressure began to rise. He was talking to me very soothingly, with words that one might attempt to use on a small child, “Honey, it’s going to be okay. you’re going to fine…” I was not reassured, nor was I impressed. We boarded the plane. He sat me in my seat, three rows from the door, and he proceeded to his exit row seat (some ten rows behind me). The main cabin door was shut, and we began to taxi away from the gate. I hazarded a glance out the window, and noticed the gently falling snow. My blood pressure was definitely on the rise at this point. Just breathe, I kept telling myself. It’s Chicago–in December–it snows here.
We continued to taxi a little further down the runway. The Sky Goddess mumbled something over the loud speaker…something about seat belts…safety cushions…drinks for five dollars. Going to probably have to get one of those. Then I heard the Captain’s voice:
“Folks, we’re going to have to head back to the gate for a minute. One of our engines is having a little trouble starting back up. Just going to need to have that looked at.”
And that’s when I lost my mind.
Settle in, and please allow me to share with y’all the text messages that transpired between my mother and myself as I sat stranded on the tarmac in my busted bird. (For a point of reference, these texts happened after an epic and award winning melt-down, just about 20 minutes before I was asked to board another flight “for my own comfort”)
Me: I’m sitting on a busted bird in Chicago. The stinking engine died.
Mother: You’ll b fine. Don’t u believe n heaven?
Me: Shut up Mother
Mother: Want 2 play scrabble?
Me: No. The plane just witnessed an epic meltdown. I’m the coolest passenger on board
Mother: I knew u would b, but it doesn’t say much about ur fellow travelers…lol
Me: I hurdled over the person sitting beside me to get to the door when they opened it
Mother: LOL
Me: Jeff caught me before I got off the plane. The flight attendant talked to me
Mother: That’s a good visual
Me: I’m n a skirt
Mother: Even better! Do u get a new plane?
Me: Jeff is 10 rows back. Wonder how people he jumped to get to me. No new plane. Jumper cables and duct tape.
Mother: Just keeps getting better
Me: We r n a recession. Apparently I’m the on-board entertainment. I told the flight attendant I wasn’t interested in flying a bird that was going to go down as a fireball over Kansas.
Mother: u didn’t!
Me: I did. First class wasn’t amused. Coach was…they don’t have their own tv’s.
Mother: Tight skirt or loose?
Me: Loose
Mother: Heels or boots?
Me: Boots
Mother: Maybe they’ll let u and Jeff sit together?
Me: He’s n an EXIT row. I’m not exactly stable enough for an emergency. I am an EMERGENCY.
Mother: Maybe they should take drink orders…
And that’s where our conversation ended. They did NOT put me in the exit row with Jeff, as no one thought I would be of any great assistance in an emergency. I cannot imagine why. I would’ve been the first one with that door OPEN and off that plane! As it turns out, “for my own comfort” as I was hyperventilating and sweating and shaking all over, our friend, the Sky Goddess, combined with efforts of my husband, thought it wise to get me off the plane and try again later. We walked off of the plane and straight to the United Club, where Jeff parked me on a bar stool. I sat there until he could get me “ready” to fly home. I slept all the way home, and everyone on THAT flight missed a really good show. I was quite dull. Six months later, I cannot re-tell that story without my hands shaking. Jeff continues to tell me that it was an APU, auxiliary power unit that wouldn’t start. That unit runs the air conditioner. I still don’t care. I heard engine, and my panic button was tripped. As I said, going somewhere with me, is very rarely boring.
Here’s hoping your day is emergency-FREE!
-Dallas