My Extended Vacation: Airline Woes

"I'm sorry. The earliest flight to Pensacola won't be until Wednesday."

My eyes widened as I stared at the flight agent dumb-founded. When the weather had delayed my flight out of Chicago several hours, I had known that I wouldn't catch my connecting flight to Pensacola on time. It was Monday, and the setback would make me two days late getting back to work in Pensacola. Not a good thing.

The flight agent droned on. "But, you can keep checking everyday to see if you can get an earlier flight."

One look from the flight agent told me that the prospect of landing an earlier flight was next to nil. Missing the first day back to work hadn't sounded too hateful. I'd have an extended vacation and delay the inevitable. But for missing two days of work, I deserved a warm bed, a hot shower, and food for all my trouble. Perhaps this delay would be to my benefit.

"Since I'm stuck here, can you hook me up with food vouchers, hotel vouchers-­­?"

"No, I'm sorry only if it's the airline's fault."

Plan One had failed. Now try Plan Two.

"Listen, I'm a college student. I don't have money for a hotel, and I'm supposed to be at work tomorrow. What am I supposed to do while I'm waiting for my flight? Where am I supposed to sleep?"

This was supposed to be my extended vacation.

The airline agent rolled her eyes and sighed. "You can either get a hotel room or you can sleep down stairs in the baggage area or in the lobby."

My visions of a warm bed and a hot shower were dimming.

"The other airlines are giving away vouchers. Are you sure you can't do anything to help me out?"

"No, I can't. I'm sorry." She beckoned the person standing in line behind me. "May I help who's next?"

Dejected, I turned away from the counter and slung my heavy backpack over my shoulder. "Yeah, you're sorry alright - a sorry excuse of a person," I grumbled. She certainly hadn't seemed broken up about my situation. I wandered downstairs to the lobby in hope of finding food and quasi-comfortable place to sleep. My dream of a cushy extended vacation vanished.

A few hours later, I wolfed down, my first meal in twelve hours, a cheap greasy hot dog and attempted to find a soft spot on the thin carpet that covered the icy concrete floor of the airport lobby. I curled up in my black trench coat and shoved my backpack and scarf under my head as a pillow. However, I wasn't alone. Two Marines were also attempting to sleep on the floor. The airport lobby had become our very own hostel.

The next morning, I crawled off my temporary bed while my back snapped, crackled, and popped like Rice Krispies and a maniac drummer pounded out an aching rhythm in my head. During the night, the Marines and I had caught only a few hours sleep and had tossed and turned several hours, while attempting to block out the airline workers' voices. The workers obviously hadn't understood the meaning of inside voices and hadn't cared that three very weary travelers sought a hard to find commodity called sleep. Bleary eyed I found a chair and decided that a kink in my neck from sleeping in a chair wouldn't be nearly as bad as a sore back from sleeping on the floor.

A few hours later, I made my pilgrimage through the security checkpoint and pondered how to stretch my meager funds for the next day and a half. Pondering this, I stumbled upon a near empty gate, curled up a seat, and almost instantly fell asleep. After what felt like mere minutes, I awoke to a foot kicking me. I looked up.

"Are you on this flight?" demanded a man staring down at me. The once-empty gate now overflowed with people.

After a moment of conferencing with my head and neck, I managed to shake my head "no" while struggling to keep my eyelids in the upright position.

This extended vacation had gone long enough. In Pensacola, I had a bed to sleep in, hot water to take a shower, and food to eat. I wanted to go back to Pensacola, even if I had to return to work. I located a flight agent and begged for a seat on a flight to Pensacola. Much to my surprise the flight agent found a seat on the evening flight. Relieved, I curled up in a chair and slept peacefully until flight arrived.

I endured my flight back to Pensacola without incident. After I arrived in Pensacola, I even refrained from griping too much when I discovered that the airline had also misplaced (ie: lost) my luggage. I was just overjoyed to be back from my extended vacation.