Are you familiar with the theory known as the Butterfly Effect? According to this line of thinking, weather in the United States can be changed by the single flapping of a butterfly’s wings in the South Amerian rain forest.
However, my personal theory is a little different. I believe that a single drop of rain in Iowa can throw all of O’Hare Airport–and in particular, American Airlines–into total chaos.
Saturday our flight from Nashville to Chicago was delayed 4 hours, putting us at our hotel about five minutes after the Belmont Stakes was run. Our afternoon in Chicago turned into an afternoon at the Nashville airport–whoo hoo!
Yesterday when we were on the train going back to the airport, the storm clouds were dark. Clearly, it would be another bad day at O’Hare.
We settled into the lounge and started watching the departure board. The earlier flight to Nashville was cancelled, but ours was still showing on time. Maybe we’d get lucky.
A family with a young son settled in our corner as well. The little boy was sound asleep in his stroller. Until he woke up and promptly threw up ALL OVER himself.
Well at least our flight was still on time. But then an ominous blinking yellow word started flashing beside more and more flights. CANCELLED. Collective groans went up around the room and outside on the concourse. Yes. We were cancelled. Husband, because of his excellent standing with American Airlines, was automatically booked on the 6 p.m. (which was in reality the 7:30) flight. We were both on standby for the 5:30 flight.
The little boy now threw up again. Buckets. All over his mother’s white pants. All over himself. The carpet. A chair. I gagged a little bit myself. And the impeccably dressed man sitting beside me left like a shot.
It was time to go back out on the concourse anyhow to see how our standby chances looked. Again, because of his priority, husband was near the top of the standby list. I was 19. On a plane that only holds 50. Even I can do that math.
I was starting to panic just ever so slightly since I have a trip to Paris TOMORROW and really needed to get home. So, when husband’s name was called, he gave me his seat so that at least one of us would make it home.
He did get on the 7:30 flight, and even got an upgrade to business class, which made for a more comfortable journey home.
Oh…one last thing to add to this very long post…the real reason we went to Chicago? I had been invited to audition for Jeopardy (http://www.sonypictures.com/tv/shows/jeopardy/indexflash.php) based on the results of an online test I took. So that’s what I did yesterday morning. I’m now in the constestant pool for 18 months.
More about that experience later–although I can’t tell you too much.
So in that spirit, here’s a Jeopardy-esque ending:
Answer: World’s worst airport?