Whew. It's been a long time since I was hangin' out here. You too, I bet. Let's catch up!
So, since we last got together, I had a trip to Aruba, my bridal shower, my bachelorette party, a dramatic airport experience, my wedding dress fitting, and we picked up our wedding bands.
Again...whew. I'll talk about the other things later, but what I really want to tell you about now is...I can check off "dramatic airport experience worthy of a movie scene" from my bucket list.
On our way back from Aruba, our connection was Dulles International Airport in Washington, D.C., and we were slated to arrive in Albany at 11:46 p.m. My bridal shower was to begin at 11 a.m. the next morning. We knew our travel arrangements were tight, but we're currently living an adventurous, on-the-edge lifestyle, apparently. Anyway - we get to Washington, D.C. and have an hour or so until we board, so we plop down at a bar and order a cocktail and food. I'm sipping my vodka soda when Lou looks at his phone and exclaims, "They just canceled our flight."
So, we abandon our cocktails (noooooo) and we devise a plan to split up: I'll go to Customer Service and he'll go to the gate and call United Airlines customer service at the same time. Before Lou leaves me at the line, he says, "I will get you back to NY in time" and I think, Oh my goodness I'm marrying a superhero. I wait in line of about 20 people, on the verge of tears and listen to the stupid people give their stupid stories about why they need to get to Albany and none of them compare to mine. I overhear that the next flight to Albany is the next day, and it arrives at 1 p.m. and I almost lose it when Lou comes over on his phone and says, "We can get on a US Air flight from another airport - which I'm being told isn't far from here - and get to Albany at 12:22 a.m." It's 9:35 p.m. at this point, and the plane leaves at 11.
LET'S DO THIS.
We say "Sayonara, suckas" to the people in line and run, run RUN (me in flip-flops - bad choice) through the airport, and even while I'm frantically running, I wish there was a reality TV camera on me to capture this moment. My flip-flops slap loudly against the floor, and parts people in front of me like Moses to the Red Sea. We reach the curbside, and throw our hands in the air to hail a cab. We hop in and say, "Reagan Airport - how far?!" The cabbie tells us it's "about 40 minutes or so - with no traffic" and he can try to get us there by 10:30. Lou says, "Nooooo" and I try to say the same, but my lungs are burning, and I can only wheeze. I wonder, do I have asthma, or do I need to up my cardio?
Lou gets back on the phone with US Air and United to ask about how we get our luggage to Albany (we abandoned not only our cocktails - we left our luggage behind) and to let US Air know of our situation and that we're on our way. The burning in my lungs subsides and I start going over what I have in my carry-on and what dress and shoes I have at my mom's place in order to be presentable at my own bridal shower. I surmise that I can make it work.
My superhero says to the cabbie, "There's 50 bucks in it for you if you get us there before 10:30" and the cabbie laughs a little, but says, "I'm trying" and I feel like he really is. Thanks Getenet Mohammed, by the way. We roll up to Reagan at 10:32 and I hop out, race to check-in, and my flip-flops against the floor are echoing because there's like, no one in this airport right now. I get to check-in and the two calm-as-anything agents (or whatever they're called) behind the counter look at me like I'm nuts, and I don't care. Superman and I race to security and again - the security guard is like, half-asleep and even has to turn the security machines ON. I realize, yep - we're in the south, because this process/these people are moving like molasses.
We half-assed get securitized, and race to the gate. They're almost done boarding, so we are the last peeps on the plane and we plop down into our seats and finally - breathe.
And, high-five each other. I thank my superhero for being so super, and he commends me on my keeping-up. I smile and fasten my seat belt.
Then, he says, "Next time...wear sneakers."
I say, "Next time, wear your cape."