So with my days off rolled to now Thursday, I ran to the gate to pre-board a flight to Bogota’. Before I knew it the door was closed and I was on my way. I haven’t flown a domestic trip in ages so it seemed like the service was over in no time. The crew was great, all four of us and I was delighted to hear we had a 30 hour layover.
We arrived at the airport to men with machine guns and tight immigrations. I smiled and asked for a stamp in my passport. As we exited the airport, it felt as though we were on the red carpet, there were hundreds of people they’re awaiting in bound passengers.
Met the crew for a Colombian beer prior to going to bed. We arranged to meet in the morning and plan out our day. As dangerous as it has been implied that Colombia is, my dear friend Jim told me I would be just fine and to go and explore. The breakfast was a lovely buffet with all you can drink coffee (OMG good) and ready, stuff French toast! Hello!
The gals and I decided to go and get a cheap mani and pedi and then the speaker offered to take us out. We grabbed a cab to the Montessori located 15 miles or so out of town and straight up a mountain. We took a tram up for a breathtaking view of Bogota’. Photos were taken; magnets and a flag were bought as well as postcards.
A run to the store to stock up on coffee lead into a comfortable evening. It is then I laid the groundwork for how I would get home. Our flight was set to land at 1538. The Portland flight was tight and then oversold. I took a look and there was flight to SEA at 1700. I have a motto, just start heading in the direction of where I need to be. Worse case, I could have driven home. I took a look at the weather in NYC, thunderstorms, no bueno.
We got to the airport and rushed people on and to their seats. My time clock had started ticking; I needed everything to work out. We did the safety demo and checks and while we were in the back waiting for the plane to move, a voice came over the PA. I didn’t understand a word but people started jumping up and grabbing their bags. Apparently there was a weight restrictions so all the non-revs had to get off. I looked painfully at my watch. 45 minutes we sat there and then they all came back on. Panic was starting in. I chatted with the pilots and told them about my flight, they were able to make the time up in the air.
Things were going well, the passengers were a bit dumb but whatever, and then the plane began a holding pattern. There was weather in NYC and we were circling above DC. FUCK! And to make matters worse is in his announcement of heartbreak he said we don’t have enough fuel to do this and may have to divert.
Luckily we got out of it and arrived 20 minutes late. There is a rule that flight attendants must remain on board the aircraft until all passengers have disembarked. In this case we had 9, yes 9 wheelchairs and 5 unaccompanied minors. We opened the door at 1624; I hid in the galley and checked my phone hoping the SEA flight was delayed. It was, by 1 minute…. And they had already issued me a seat in the exit row. Boarding had already begun. I had a sinking feeling almost one of defeat. My crew was awesome and ushered off all the wheelchair waiting people onto the jet bridge so I could go. I ran through the customs and immigration hall knowing I had just landed from a red flag country and could get asked to step aside at any moment.
Made it through without a body cavity search and run up to security. Through my things, computer, jacket and shoes up and gathered them up as quickly as possible. With my four inch heals, full uniform and 60 pounds of luggage in tow, I began to all out run to the gate. It was gate 80 almost at the end of the concourse. I was so out of breath by the time I made it there, I could only show my badge when she asked for my name.
My exit row seat had been given away in my absence but suddenly replaced with a first class seat. I walked down the jet bridge and took my place in the cue of 10 or so people. The agent, god bless her in all ways, came and ushered me in front of everyone. This made me feel uncomfortable because I was receiving special treatment. I embarrassingly walked behind her to the gripping of the people waiting to board; the ground guy stopped me and told me I had to check my bag. I told him that I had a close connection in SEA and before he could say anything the agent made the proclamation that I was in first class. I walked in and looked desperately for a space. I am in frantic mode still and sweat is dripping off of me. I find a small space and just want to get the bag up and sit down getting out of everyone way.
First class is fully boarded, the plane is as well, and the flight attendants don’t seem to be in the great of a mood. I heave my bag up and it gets caught on something. I am trying to fix it and can’t think clearly enough. Meanwhile 2A is yelling at me about her stripped bag. I go to my seat without it fully in and wait for everyone to be boarded. Of course I am at the window so I keep climbing over this nice Chinese man. After the boarding was complete, I got back up to give it another go. By this time some other passenger and the agent are trying to help me and all that is coming out of my mouth is how embarrassed I am. My bag is too fat as well as caught so I reach in to the front pocket and remove my Duane reed sack of laundry. Finally the bag goes in and I can sit down. Sweat begins to drench my body once it is settled. I apologize to my neighbor who finds kind humor in the whole situation and tells me to relax.
I shoot off a text to the BF that I have made it on board and am heading west. As I am taking a drink of water, I see 2A and 2B give the grumpiest flight attendant something. Something I recognize. I watch her walk to the galley and then I read her lips, “Somebody’s fucking panties!” We all know whom they belong to. She marches back to the seat and asked what the hell. I hear, “they are the flight attendants” as four different people start pointing to my seat.
I have to own up to this, and as she begins to approach me, I just tell her. Yep, those are mine; this is my life in a nutshell. She begins to bust out laughing and ask me if I want them back. No, please throw my Primark bikini work panties away. And I promised not to make any more trouble on this flight.
Even though there was weather in NYC they let our plane go, the flight time was shorter than usual as well so I was feeling pretty good about my connection.
As the service began the other flight attendants came up to take my order. She assured me my name won’t be told but the story sure would be. At this point it just became a good story. We chatted more about my day when I finally got the nerve to walk past the panty givers and go to the bathroom an hour later.
Close to landing, I went in a brushed my teeth and freshened my makeup. When I exited they asked me if I could take a jump seat for landing as one of the crew as sick. Absolutely! So I put on my jacket and tucked in my shirt and then started picking up the first class cabin. A military guy was then moved to my seat and the sick flight attendant to 1B. I am sure the first class cabin felt like they were playing a game of Clue.
The good news was that I was one of the first people off the plane and after my grace from prior, I sprinted up the jet way. We arrived at gate B3, I begin to look for my connection. It is 2010 and I haven’t checked in for it, only listed. I go to the board…N12! Where the hell is that? I started sprinting once again through yet another airport. Through the food court, my eyes scanning signs as fast as possible. I spotted an Alaska employee, “where’s N terminal?” I asked while still in full stride. I was told I had to go downstairs and take a train. My response, are you fucking kidding me?
So off I went and all the while trying to check myself in via my mobile. I arrive breathlessly at the gate to see another FA waiting her turn for a ride home. I ran up to the gate and checked in. I was then informed that there were no more seats left, they were waiting for passengers. I sighed and started thinking of a back up plan. We stood there patiently as they paged John Marsh over and over again. Finally, they called it and handed both of us tickets home.
Walking through the PDX terminal relieved that I made it there through every possible obstacle given to me gave me the extra strength to run and jump into the waiting arms of Todd. At that second, I would have done it all again.
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