How I Jinxed My Own Flight

The words came out of my mouth at my mom's house about four hours before my flight time: "No worries - Delta is always on time." It was raining cats and dogs—with tornado warnings plaguing the Atlanta area Sunday afternoon—so I suspected there might be flight delays. But Delta.com told me my flight was on schedule.

I should have known better.

Driving my sister-in-law Judy's Celica, I left my mom's house 65 minutes ahead of time for the presumed 50-minute drive, plowing through a torrential downpour to get to the Marta train station. I had planned to park the car in the Marta garage, hide the Garmin navigator and my mom's house key in the glove box, leave the car key on a tire, and catch the 5PM train to the airport for my 7:20 flight.

My biggest mistake was picking up the phone to return a call from Judy. As a rule, I don't like talking on the phone while driving. We were only on the phone for a minute, but it was just enough for me to miss my turn. The Garmin recalcuated, adding five minutes to my arrival time, which was cutting it close.

To make matters worse, the streets were flooded, so I had to drive slowly. As time passed, my arrival time on the Garmin lengthened to the point that I decided I'd just have to take the 5:20 train. This relieved some of the stress to get there on time, so I stopped to fill up the gas tank.

But the rain came down even harder and I seemed to hit every red light. This time when the phone rang while I was driving, I simply ignored it. That was my second mistake because it was probably Delta calling me to tell me my flight was delayed, in which case I wouldn't have rushed.

I got to Marta close to 5:12, knowing I'd have to rush to get a ticket. I parked quickly, tucked a $10 bill into the ashtray to cover parking and, in my hurry, threw the Garmin, the house key, and the car key into the glove box. No sooner had I shut the door than I'd realized my mistake. I'd locked their only key inside the car. Great. But I had to run to catch the train, so I decided I'd call Judy as soon as I got on the train. I'd just have to pay her to hire a locksmith.

First, I couldn't find the way to the trains and climbed three or four flights of stairs before I realized I was going the wrong way. When I finally got back on track, I struggled at the machine to determine what kind of ticket to buy. I got the ticket and ran up to the platform. As soon as I got on the train I got the call from Delta. The automated voice seemed to take forever to spit out the message that my flight was delayed until 8:32. Just before the doors closed, I jumped off the train to deal with the car problem.

After several phone calls with Judy, my brother, a locksmith, and my insurance company, we determined that I should just get back on the train and go. I tried to re-use my Marta ticket, but was forced to buy a new one. (Rip-off!!).

I arrived at the airport around 7PM. While verifying my 8:32 flight, I noticed that two earlier flights to D.C. had been cancelled. Yikes. This was bad. Another monitor later didn't list my flight at all, so I made my way to the gate and found a seat. It wasn't long before the announcement came that my flight was delayed till 11PM. No explanation was offered. Aargh. That's when I moved to the floor and plugged in my phone and laptop to get them charged up for the wait.

Thank god for the NFL play-offs. Everyone in the crowded airport was watching the Saints game on TVs everwhere. The crowd at my gate was a ton of fun. It was pretty exciting to see the Saints win in OT (despite the three bad referee calls in a row).

Long story short, the flight was delayed till 11:20. But by then we were still boarding and delays weren't even being announced by the busy Delta gate rep maintained a surprisingly fantastic attitude throughout the hectic ordeal. Fully boarded, we still didn't have pilots. After the safety check and the long line of planes waiting to take off, we finally took off at 12:20AM.

Arriving at DCA around 2AM, I went all the way to the Metro station, only to find it closed. Geez! What kind of subway closes at night?? Argh.

I had to make my way back to the cabbie stand, where the line was about 100 deep at that point. My entire plane was standing there. I road with two other strangers to my neighborhood, but the cabbie wouldn't let us split the bill, gouging us to pay full price each. It was a rip-off, but at that point I didn't care. I was tired, hungry, and just wanted my bed. Even when the meter read $16.01 and he quoted me $17.60, I just handed him a twenty in the pouring rain and wind and went inside my building.

I've only travelled three times in the past 1.5 years, but leave it to me to pick two return trips during the biggest east coast storms of the year. Both times I kept saying, "Everything will be fine." Wrong. See, I jinxed it!

Never again. From now on, I go back to assuming the worst.

Note - At least my 'girls' were really glad to see me...