How many of you remember when flying was sort of glamorous?  When you used to get dressed up to fly, wear heals and nice suites?  No?  Well most of you are too young to remember, but I’m glad those days are over and that I was wearing comfortable clothes and flats on Wednesday when I flew to Washington DC.  Booked on a very early United flight out of Flint, connecting in Cleveland and ending up at Reagan National, I expected to arrive in DC mid morning, enjoy a leisurely metro ride to the mall and a bit of time at the Martin Luther King memorial before my first meeting scheduled at 2:30 in the Hart Senate Building.

I did my part, got up at 3, got to the airport by 4:45, was at the gate at 5:00 a.m.  The flight was supposed to board at 5:30.  By 5:45 they told us there would be a small delay because a screen in the aircraft would not light up.  After a bit they said it would take an hour to fix and I knew I’d miss my connection, but I had lots of time before my first meeting in DC.  I was irritated but not worried.

After the hour was up they told us the flight was cancelled.  Immediately I was up the escalator and first in line at the ticket counter to get rescheduled.  I eventually scored a Delta flight out of Detroit direct to DC that would get me in around noon.  But I was in Flint.

They booked a taxi van and 10 of us crammed in there for an crazy ride in rush hour traffic down to the big city.  Along the way we encountered a traffic jam created by a fender bender accident and our driver veered off the freeway on an exit, careened through a Mobile gas station, and headed back north on the freeway we’d just come down.  We were mostly confused and stressed as we hung on tight in the swaying vehicle.  None of the seat belts worked, and I was sitting on half a seat, sharing the last bench seat with two rather large ladies.

We finally got deposited at Detroit and I ran for my flight, making it to the gate just as it should have been boarding.  It was not boarding.  There were maintenance problems with the plane and there would be a delay.  Really.  Really?  We sat for another hour or more.  I’d been ‘traveling’ for over 7 hours and had only managed to get sixty miles from my house.

We finally flew out of Detroit a bit after noon, and I arrived at Regan National around 1:30.  No time for the metro trip, no time for wandering amid monuments.  No time to relax.  No time for lunch.  I grabbed a cab and headed for the Hill.  Tomorrow I’ll tell you about two conversations I had with cab drivers.  One in particular was pretty special.

But for now I’m going to go to bed.  Just thinking about that flight has exhausted me all over again.