Today marks the first time I’ve sat in the terminal waiting two and a half hours for the sun to melt the ice off the wings of my airplane, because my Southern California airport doesn’t need de-icing equipment.
I offered to go out there with a hairdryer, but they wouldn’t take me up on it.
And, of course, by the time we landed I had nine minutes to make my connection. On which the gate agent closed the door just as I ran up, and wouldn’t reopen it.
So now I’m in Houston, waiting for the next flight, which thank god and Fiorello LaGuardia is only an hour and a half later.
The whole thing makes me super happy that I woke R. up at 4 am to make sure I got to the airport on time.