Is getting there REALLY half the fun?

My beautiful wife dropped me off at the airport this morning at about 8:00 am. It was a crisp April morning not unlike the one before it. After saying our goodbyes, I went into the airport to check my bags and print my boarding passes. Behind the counter was bright shining smiling Lisa (Pastors daughter) who helped me pick a better seat and get my bag checked...thanks Lisa!!! But then it went south.


I choked down the $9 (actually $11 after tip) Breakfast Tacos from TGIFridays. I forgot how bad powdered eggs are. I made my way over to the gate area to wait on my flight. They began boarding after about 15 minutes of waiting. I was in group 6. After calling groups 1-4, they just stopped. After several minutes, they said they were having a problem with something or other and they would not continue boarding until it was resolved. About 15 minutes later they began boarding again. I am all comfy in my seat, listening to music when the Captain says that they are experiencing a problem with the radio.


We sat on the runway for another 30 minutes while the ground crew diagnosed and finally fixed the problem with the radio. The flight that was supposed to leave Tulsa at 9:55 took off at 11:17. My connecting flight to San Antonio was scheduled to leave at 11:55. We arrived DFW at 11:43 at gate C35, and I needed to be at gate A24 in 12 minutes. I rushed and hurried, got on the tram and ran to gate A24. The plane was still there, but the door was shut. The lady behind the counter (oh how I wished it was Lisa) didn't really care much, but said I was now confirmed on the 1:05 flight to San Antonio at gate C 25...just feet from where I initially got off the first plane.


I made my way to the gate. There was no time to grab any lunch, so I had "skips". We boarded the plane on time. This flight was much more crowded than the last. I sat next to a middle aged woman who wore way too much perfume, probably trying to cover up the cigarette smoke smell. Most of you know that I am not a small person, well okay, I am fat. To be quite honest, I am fully convinced that the seats on an MD-80 were designed to comfortably fit midgets. I am not sure which was worse, the awful perfume smell or the discomfort of the seat. Either way, they were both bad.


Upon arriving in San Antonio, I checked my voice mail. Our market admin aide had called and was very concerned that I was not on my original flight and was MIA. I had to call her and let her know that I was in fact safe and accounted for. I got in a van (some surplus CIA vehicle I am quite sure of) and was taken to my hotel.