runlindsayrun

The Amazing Race (Part 1)

So we had a decent night and woke up, packed up, and headed downstairs to have breakfast and grab a cab to the airport (we booked a hotel package that included - among other things - a ride to and from the airport and vehicle storage while we're away). The taxi driver was about 100 years old and the car might have actually been older than that. Lucky 7 Taxi. The whole thing just felt like a sad news story waiting to happen. I was concerned that he might die loading my big suitcase into the back of the car, but we all made it to the airport in one piece. I was thanking God it was only a three minute drive. HE WAS SO OLD.

Geoff is apparently playing backseat editor with this blog post, and he claims the car was not 100 years old. It was an early 80s Lincoln Something. Which he kindly reminded me is LESS old than I am. Thank you, Geoff.

Anyway. We made it to the airport and waited in line behind one person to drop off my bag (yes, I'm married to one of those annoying men who can inexplicably pack a week's worth of stuff in a carry-on suitcase). We sailed through security faster than I've ever gone through security in my life, I think. Or rather, LINDSAY sailed through security. Geoff's knee brace made the loudest siren in the world go off. I may have laughed just a little at his expense.

And then we waited. At first, we were told our flight was 20 minutes late and that our connecting flight in Minneapolis would not be a problem. Then we were told nothing. And we waited... And we waited... And we waited.

By the time we were taking off in Fargo, we were 45 minutes behind schedule. With a scheduled 60 minute layover before our next flight took off. ARGH. We kind of made our peace with missing our flight to La Guardia, but figured that we'd still try our hardest to do whatever we could to make it. You never know, right?

But we were seated at the back of the aircraft. And the flight attendants' announcements (at my request) that people PLEASE let off the individuals sitting near the back who had tight connections went totally unnoticed. And the Delta worker at the gate when we ran off the plane was useless. She told us that our next flight was on time and that we *could* run but it was likely to be a waste of energy. So we decided to go to our new terminal and figure it out (we could also rebook from there). We'd gone about thirty steps when we heard a final page for us on our La Guardia flight. I took one look at Geoff, told him to get to the gate whenever he could, and I ran like the wind through two terminals.

Well, IN MY MIND, I ran like the wind. In reality, I was cursing audibly and promising God that if I made this flight, I would start running again when we got back to Winnipeg. Oh dear LORD, this girl is out of shape. But guess what? I DID IT. I made it to the gate and threw our boarding passes and passports at the Delta lady at the same time I collapsed against the side of the counter, and managed to gasp out that my husband - with a knee injury - was still coming. And he showed up just a minute or two later.

Hey, it wouldn't be a Geoff + Lindsay vacation if someone wasn't sprinting through an airport. (See Also: Patmos and London.)

Apparently, our pilot was running late and hadn't boarded the plane yet. The flight was supposed to be on time, but was pushed back by almost ten minutes while they waited. That was absolutely the only reason we are currently sitting on our scheduled Minneapolis - La Guardia flight.

THANK YOU, PILOT. (And I don't even want to know why you were late.)

We walked onto our flight and someone was sitting in Geoff's seat. She looked up and said, "I didn't think you were coming." And we just smiled and said, "NEITHER DID WE."

Labels: New York New York, The Boy, Travel

posted by Lindsay @ 2:19 PM