Bad Day at OHare (7)

Bad Day at OHare (7)
Originally uploaded by buckshot.jones

This was part of a very, very long day at O'Hare, aka the Death of Me. It started out as a good day. I completed my business in Chicago early and headed out to the airport for my 4:00 flight back to Detroit. I felt good. The training class I ran in the morning went very well and for the first time in several weeks I was scheduled to be home before dinner. I knew storms were on their way, but I felt certain they would hit after my plane whisked me down the runway and across Lake Michigan. That's what the weatherman said. They wouldn't lie, would they? The T.V. had never let me down before.

Around 3:00 a storm rolls into the Chicago area. Not just any storm, one of those wicked buggers that cause sirens to go off and flights to be delayed. For the first time I can recall, we were evacuated from the terminal gate area. The tower was shut down. A ground stop was called. The flight monitors laid it all out in ugly detail- cancelled, cancelled, cancelled. Except my flight.

I had a thin thread of hope. This shot was taken right before the evacuation. Right across the main aisle, the windows on the other side displayed a light summer sun. Very weird. Then came the news: another line of storms were on the way. My patch of sun was something akin to the eye of the storm. Damn. Next the gate agent announced our plane was in the air but diverted to Milwaukee. Double damn. And our 4:00 departure was looking like 10:30 or later. My life sucks. Shoot me now.

Mother raised no fool. I added up the numbers- a bazillion flights cancelled, times 100 passengers for each flight, divided by the number of hotel roo.....Trust me, it equals get a hotel room now or risk sleeping on a cot in O'Hare, full of hot, angry smelly travelers. With air conditioning not working. I found a room at the Marriott Residence in O'Hare. Northwest pleasantly rebooked my flight even though it was not officially cancelled. Things are looking up. I was soon to find out looking up as in riding a rollercoaster.

I grabbed my luggage and headed over to the hotel shuttle station. It was incredibly humid, still over 80 degrees and in the words of Forest Gump, dumping 'big old fat rain'. A made a dash across the street and arrived at a scene out of some third world new footage. Every time a bus pulled up a mad rush ensued. You could almost feel the wave of humanity as these business travelers pushed and jousted to get on the bus. My bus finally arrived and we poured in. I figure there must have been 30- 40 people crammed on the bus. I think some people my have been hanging on the sides. None the less we pulled out and headed to our comfy beds.

We get to the hotel only to find the air conditioning is out and the elevator is out. And my room is on the fourth floor. Sorry, Buckshot, your Platinum Status with Marriott means nothing tonight. I had to step outside in the rain to get to my room. The key to the door didn't work. I'm soaked. My luggage is soaked. I lug my bags up the stairs, open the door, rip my shirt on a piece of metal and throw my bags down. With the air conditioning out, I opened the windows where the rumble of planes taking off from O'Hare reminded me all night long that just maybe my flight actually took off. It was then I realized how evil and alive O'Hare is- the airport was mocking me.