Well the weather was fine, but the airplane in Washington D.C. was not.   It was supposed to take off at 9:40.  Then 10:10.  Then 10:30… there were about 10 of us waiting for the Westchester flight, and we started making sort of a joke of whose turn it was to point out the updated time.  Almost immediately I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to get home tonight, and I inquired about hotel accomodations.  They assured me that if the flight was cancelled for mechanical reasons, we would be put up for the night.  And so it went on, until finally at 1:00am they called it cancelled. 

So I waited in line to rebook for the first flight in the morning.  Luckilly there were still seats on it – although only 5 remained.  There were 40 some people in line.  These people were going to be even more unhappy as the evening went on.  Travel can be… interesting.  Then I found out that the growing queue was another flight that had been cancelled to Charleston.  Weird.  What is going on with the planes?

So I waited in line next, for my hotel and transportation vouchers.  Still we were a merry band, the few of the Westchester passengers, that had gladly been at the front of the line.  I got to know my fellow passengers a bit.  One has a 14-month old son named Tobias, and he and his wife are moving to Long Island for a month or so to try and nurse his father back to health.  He was flying in for his grandmother’s funeral.  Nice guy.  Works with solar energy out in California.  Another guy was waiting in line too, I didn’t get to know as much about.  The three of us shared a cab to the hotel.  Joked about politics a bit on the ride from the airport.

So we arrived at the Hilton.  And then we waited in line to get checked in.  This is where is got downright hysterical…  The first guy to get a room key, happily gets into the glass elevator, which is in the middle of a 3 story atrium.  He is happy – it’s the end of the line.  Time for bed.  Ready for traveling another day.  But the elevator doesn’t cooperate.  He proceeds to stay put.  Then go down a floor.  Back up.  Back down.  The door isn’t opening.  It’s like being a fish in an aquarium or an animal in the zoo.  Pretty soon the entire queue of hapless passengers is roaring with laughter every time the elevator moves up or down and he reappears.  Luckilly he is also laughing along with us.  But this is crazy.  I had tears streaming down my face it was just such a comedy of errors.  And yes, I was tired too.  Up. Down.  Up.  Down.

I finally get to the front of the line and ask for a room on the ground floor. :o)  The man is still in the elevator.

So hubby has to do the morning routine.  What will the children be wearing?  What snacks will be packed?  It’s just all such an adventure.  I’m glad he isn’t traveling this week and is home to take care of things for this extra surprise morning away.

Will the man still be in the elevator when I wake up in the morning?  I hope not.  Stay tuned.