As I mentioned last time, day two of my accidental vacation in DFW airport started at four in the morning. I was not in a good mood, to say the least. I had gotten little to no sleep while lying on a cold, hard floor. I didn't have a book to read and all the shops in the airport were still closed. And to top it all off, the high temperature in Dallas that day was forecast at a balmy 15 degrees. I suspected that there wouldn't be much thawing going on.
I sat and stared until six and then made my way to the ticket counter. Because there was still a significant amount of ice on the ground, the planes, and anything else that happened to be outside, the earliest flights for the day were at five p.m. Since the car rental agencies were still closed, I thought the five p.m. flight was the best I could do so I booked my seat. With eleven hours to kill, I decided to explore the airport.
It is amazing how big an airport like DFW really is - and how few steps you really have to take to get from place to place. I stood on moving walkways. I rode escalators. I rode a train from one terminal to another. I then used the moving walkways to get back to the first terminal. I probably traveled at least a mile in distance but only walked a few hundred yards. During my trip, I also found a whole new set of shops that were now open. First, I bought a toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant. No explanation needed, I think. Next, I found a PGA Tour shop that had baseball caps. There, I bought my all-time favorite hat: a red Tommy Bahama King Putt cap. Someone in St. Thomas is wearing that hat with pride right now but that is a story for another day. Finally, I found a store that sold books. There weren't many choices so I ended up with The Bourne Identity which turned out to be much better than I had suspected it would be.
I had burned roughly two of the eleven hours I had to kill at this point so I grabbed some breakfast and called the Tiki Gal to let her know I was alive and (sort of) well. I also called my manager to let him know I would not be making it into work. He seemed to be amused at the fact that I was stuck in the airport overnight. He did offer to try to come and get me but I didn't want to make him risk his life and limb on the treacherous roads. Besides, I had a plane to catch in nine short hours.
For the rest of the day, I would read for a few hours and then people watch for an hour. Airports are absolutely one of the best places to people watch. Especially when the majority of the travelers are grumpy because they spent the previous night on the floor in the airport. When I couldn't sit anymore, I would walk laps around the terminal. It was one of the longest days of my life.
Finally, right on time, the announcement was made to board my flight. I called the Tiki Gal and told her I would hopefully be home in a few hours and eagerly got on the plane. I was so exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before that I fell asleep as soon as I sat down in my seat. I woke up two hours later and was a bit surprised to find that at six-thirty, my flight that was scheduled for a five p.m. departure was still parked at the gate. I asked my neighbor what was going on. He told me that we were waiting to get the engines de-iced. Oh no! Not the dreaded de-icing again. On the other hand, de-icing of the engines is likely a good thing to do so I pulled out my new book (I finished The Bourne Identity at four. The new one was some Dean Koontz novel - who knows which one) and began to read. When the engine de-icer crew finally got to my plane, it was 9 p.m. and I had finished half of the new book. With our engines safe and thawed, the captain pulled into the line of planes waiting to have the wings de-iced. Ugh. I was starting to get a queasy feeling about this flight. I was still really tired so I dozed off again. I woke up at 12:30 a.m. to find that we were on our way back to the gate. The flight crew had reached their work day limit so I wasn't going home after all. I wanted to hit something or cry. Or both.
When we departed the plane, we were given the same basic information as the night before. Flight arrangements could be made at six in the morning. All the hotels nearby were full. Car rentals could not be had. Taxis were not running. Welcome to the Hotel DFW. You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave. Luckily for me, however, the airport had decided that it was not in their best interests to have a bunch of sleep-deprived, grumpy, semi-homeless people wandering around so they brought out rows and rows of cots. I grabbed another tiny blanket and pillow and a cot and pulled it into a corner. I called the Tiki Gal with the last sliver of battery left in my phone to let her know I would not be making it home after all. I put my worldly belongings (a really cool hat, a portfolio, and a formerly nice jacket that looked like it had seen better days) under my cot, covered up with my tiny blanket and went to sleep on my tiny pillow.
I slept really well. The human body will apparently allow you to sleep in the worst conditions once you get tired enough. I slept through the announcements, the cleaning crews and possibly a military marching band. I woke up at a little after six and again secured a ticket for a flight home at three p.m. Not great but not as bad as it could have been. Even better, the temperature was going to be in the mid-fifties by lunch time. I felt that my parole was close at hand.
To make a long story a little shorter, I finished book number three and purchased book number four (a Laurell K. Hamilton, I think). I walked, sat, and ate. Finally, it was time to board my flight. And what do you know. It didn't need to be de-iced at all.
My day trip turned into a three day vacation that I didn't want and that I certainly would not recommend. Looking back, I wonder why I didn't spend the entire time in the airport bar? It must have been the lack of sleep. But at least I got a cool hat.
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