First – the airport mess.
I arrived at the airport early for my 4:00 flight. I knew that the weather was going to be potentially shitty, and expected delays. When I arrived at SFO, checked in, and went to the gate, the sign, as predicted, said the flight was dalayed until 5:20. Given that it was 3:30, I decided to wander around the aiport, get some gifts for the crew, and eat dinner. At 5pm sharp, I made my way from the food court to the gate. Nobody was there. I checked the time and the clock on the monitors and the booth read exactly 5:03. One of the guys who worked there asked me if I was looking to get on the Chicago flight. I admitted that I was, and he said that it was too late – they already locked the doors – but that I should try knocking on the door to see if they would let me in. So, like an idiot, I knocked. One of the flight attendants came out and I asked her if I could still get on the flight. She hesitated for a moment then said, “sorry, but we lock the gates 10 minutes prior to takeoff.” I said that it wasn’t even 10 minutes yet, and that I was at the door since 5:03pm exactly – according to the time that was posted on the gate and on the monitors, that should have been more than enough time. She countered with, “It’s 5:20.” I responded, “Check your clock.” So she went to her ticket station, checked her clock and said, “It’s 5:08.” “Sooo…thats still 2 minutes technically before you should be locking the cabins, correct?” She didn’t even bother answering me. Instead she told me she could get me on the next flight which left at 6:20.
I immediately went to the customer service area where a there was a line filled with people with pretty much the same complaint. It was my unfortunate luck to get this bitchy asian lady who happened to be at the gate at the time of the incident. I relayed to her my story, and while I was telling her the story, she didn’t even look up at me. Just sat there on her fat ass and typed on the computer. Finally she said, eyes fluttering, “well, what do you want me to do about it? She already gave you a ticket for the next flight.” That, more than anything, set me off. If I could have, I woudl have reached across the table, grabbed her by her fucking bowtie around her neck, pulled her across the desk, and slapped her. But instead, I tried to calmly explain that I was missing my sister’s bday bc of this, and that the time I lost is not something they could ever replace. She then tried to tell me this story about how if they flight hadn’t left at the time it did, then they would have had a problem w/the landing gears and would not be able to land. Bull. Shit. You mean to tell me 2 minutes would have made a fucking difference? Because I was so angry, my eyes started to well up. Even still, she remained apathetic and detached. “There’s nothing I can do. Sorry.” I told her that this ticket was bought on frequent flier miles and that should mean something. She kept saying sorry without looking at me. Finally I asked for her name, and the name of the lady at the gate, as well as the customer service number. It was then, and only then, that she said, “I can give you a $5 food voucher.” Un-fucking-believable. I told her to forget it and walked away.
So I got on the 6:20 flight, which put me into Chicago a little before midnight. The best was the fucking captain on the plane bragging about how they are always on time. I laughed out loud on the quiet airplane upon hearing that remark. The clincher to it all was that I checked the time they closed the cabin doors. The flight left at 6:20 and they closed the cabin doors at 6:22, letting people on as late as 6:18. Fucking liars.
But, I arrived, safe and sound, and agitated as hell, and met the crew at the hotel bar connected to O’hare. Everyone was already there. My poor brother had been waiting for hours w/S since his flight was the earliest to arrive, and was about to pass out. My sis and Parcheesi arrived after the bro. Followed by Zakk. And then, finally me. Apparently, a bet was made over what the first thing I would say when I finally got to the fucking bar. I can’t remember who said what, but I guess my sister won. I said something like, “I am SO annoyed.” I’m not sure what she guessed. But Im sure the words “fucker” and “biches” were somewhere in the sentence.
Since it was midnight, I gave my sister her bday gift – a photo book of Rose Bowl pictures from when we went back in January. It sounds gay, but its actually kind of cool bc it was a bound book where the pictures were printed on the page. I stuck the confetti from the Rose Bowl into the pages. My sis and I thought we had lost the precious confetti until I located it at the bottom of one of my duffel bags. I think she liked it…
It was a relief to finally see everyone and have a few sips of beer at this weird hotel bar where all the waitresses were Eastern European and in love w/my bro. We kept teasing my bro that he looked like Hillary Swank from “Boys Don’t Cry” bc of his haircut and the way he was slouching while he sat. There was a lot of sports paraphenelia hanging on the walls of the bar. One of the items was Walter Peyton’s superbowl ring (i think) that we called the “sweetness ring” aka “cock ring.” God I dont know why that was funny except that it was. Also on the wall was an old black and white photo of a team with some handwritten text underneath that read “HALAS.” We kept reading it and saying, “HOOOLLLLAAAAAA.” Stupid.
We crammed in the car and headed back to S’ place in Downer’s Grove – this small little town about an hr or so outside of Chi-town. I think we drank some more and sat around watching tv until it got really late. S did surprise us w/an awesome gift: Texas Exes Chicago chapter tshirts. Awesome!!!
St. Patrick’s Day 
For the most part, the weekend was pretty relaxing. Just not being away from work lowered my blood pressure by about 90%. We got up late, adorned ourselves with St.Paddy’s affiliated tattoos, dilly-dallied over to downtown Downer’s Grove, and asked the locals where the hell “Dani’s” was. Turns out we were looking for “Dali’s” We walked by a couple of pubs where Irish festivities were already taking place. Most bizarre was that the town reminded me of that small town in Groundhog’s day–where overly happy cartoonish music is being piped out from some building onto the streets below. Except it was Irish music, I think.
Dali’s was a good choice for breakfast, even if, like idiots, we all ordered the most bizarre shit on the menu – omelettes w/jalepenos and chorizo, pancakes.and lots of coffee. Kind of a stupid choice in retrospect, but tasty while we were eating it. Afterwards, we headed to downtown Chicago. I’m not sure what part of town we were in, but we ended up at Abbey Pub – an irish owned and operated establishment. There were 2 sides to the pub. One was a smaller, more intimate bar. And the other was a huge dance floor w/a mezzanine level and stage. The bar side was overcrowded since there was a game going on in there, so we found some seats up in the mezzanine on the dance side, and spent a large part of St. Paddy’s there – drinking lots of beer.
The thing about beer is – while I like to drink it, I can’t drink more than a few pints in a sitting. It just makes me feel way too full and bloated. And I was already feeling that way from the large breakfast. So I kept it to a minimum. We had a good time though. I’ll never remember the name of the band who played, but they were a Norwegian group that sang with Irish accents. Bizarre, but cool. After they played, our side of the bar begin filling up rapidly with all sorts of people. A rowdy group of guys were at a table nearby – dancing like leprechauns. Across from us – a sailor in uniform (looked like he was 12) with his family.
After the band came the irish dancers. They were cool when they did the traditional irish stuff, but they were weird and confusing when they danced to country music, “dedicating the performance to the US Armed Forces.” I was kind of embarrassed, esp since there was a sailor in the house. so weird. Also notable was the lady who kept introducing the dance troops. God she sounded like she was from Fargo. And she wouldnt shut the fuck up. I wanted to ram a hoagie into her mouth and make the pain stop.
We had to leave early to catch the Blackhawk’s game. We arrived and were given green blackhawks caps in celebration of St. Paddys day. Guess who we also saw at the arena? Those fucking irish dancers doing their country music bit. Still, the atmosphere was really ambient. There were 2 ugly leprechauns who molested my sister – slobbering all over her neck to wish her a happy bday. There was also a leprechaun lady who had a pot o’gold wrapped around her waist and a rainbow arched over her head. Fucking weird dude. There were also bagpipers roaming the hallways playing irish tunes.
All I wanted was the stadium food. We ate jalepeno cheese pretzels, nachos with jalepenos, chicago style hotdogs and churros. I had to wean myself off the alcohol, and instead went straight for the diet coke. So good, but so gross.
The Blackhawks lost. God they sucked. Its like they didnt even give a shit. No charisma. The most entertaining part of it all was when the featured the fucking organ player for a good 30 minutes while blinking misspelled St. Patricks day greetings on the jumbotron and on the strip monitors that surround the stadium. Evenso, it was a pretty good atmosphere and we had a lot of fun. Towards the end, we were more interested in NCAA basketball than in the game.
After the game, we headed to I don’t know where – to a place w/lots of bars and restaurants. S knew the owner of this one bar, Mickey’s, and even though they weren’t letting anyone in, we were allowed inside. Heh. Suckas! We got inside just in time to see/hear more bagpipe players standing on the bar and doing their thing. God, the place was crowded though. And the thing about Chicago is that you can smoke inside. That also sucked. I haven’t been subjected to that since my days in Austin.
We settled on a place upstairs where we could watch the Texas game. Again, it was crowded like crazy. I didn’t mind it though. At least the crowd was young and lively. Still, this wasn’t really the right weekend to find and pick up boys, so i didn’t even try. Besides, I had a fucking shamrock sticker plastered on the side of my face. We watched as Texas clinched the victory. We also watched as a young, pregnant girl smoked cigarettes and drank corona. And yes, she was very obviously pregnant. Classy, no?
It was getting pretty late, so we headed home. First we stopped by the local 7-11 where we got the most random assortment of stoner food imagineable. Hot wings, cheese popcorn, frozen pizza, pizza rolls, ramen soup (that was my sisters), brownie ice cream, gatorade. God, what must the check out guy been thinking. And then, we went home, and proceeded to more or less eat all of the food. Fucking disgusting. After I finished I could feel my arteries hardening, thats how disgusting I felt. I think I was just eating out of stress – stress of work and life and all that crap. And whatever, I just didnt care. Calories don’t count when you’re on vacation, right?
The Aftermath
Woke up still feeling full and disgusting from eating so much shit. Lets recount what I ate, shall we:
Chorizo and Jalepeno omelete w/cheese. Pancakes. Coffee.
Curry Fries
Jalepeno and cheese pretzel
Foot long chicago style hot dog
nachos with cheese and jalepenos
Churro
Entire box of buffalo wings with ranch dressing
Ben and jerry’s chocolate chocolate brownie ice cream
cheese popcorn
slice of pizza
diet coke (why bother with the diet?)
beer
sips of mai tai
Fucking disgusting.
The next day, Saturday, I vowed to “detox” myself. This meant skipping coffee at breakfast at Dali’s and opting for the “heart healthy” egg white and turkey scramble.
We got kind of a late start, with breakfast and the drive and everything. Our plan was to go to the Museum of Science and Technology – a place that my sister hadn’t been to for ages – and a place where we have a lot of great memories as kids. Unfortunately, the stupid place closed at 4pm! What musuem closes at 4pm on a weekend?!?!?!?!?!? Unsure of what to do next, we decided to drive down to Navy Pier and walk around there.
Luckily or us, the day was sunny. Chilly, but sunny. We checked out all the souvenier shops and walked along the water’s edge taking pictures and acting like goofballs. I got a dose of eye candy with all the various groups of sailors wandering around…Hot! I dunno, it was pretty relaxing – just being outdoors, hanging out, looking at the city, watching the water…until I found a large chunk of ice and tossed it at Zakk. I thought the ice was going to break, but it didn’t. Oooops. Sorry Zakk!!!
We had dinner reservations at 9pm for this trendy little place called XO, but being that we had time to kill, we took a trolley-like shuttle thing to Michigan Avenue where my sis and I went shopping and the boys hung out at Virgin records…then at ESPN zone. Somewhere duing this time, I ended up scratching my eye or something, bc my eye became completely irritated and red. At first, I thought it was just my contact, but my entire eye was pulsating. Pissed me off and made me irritable.
Somehow we ended up at a bar called Rock Bottom. Given that I was detoxing, I didn’t feel like filling up on beer. But we went and found a table in the back where it was a little less smoky. ugh. they need to quit w/the smoking indoors. fucking nasty, people. I started feeling a little better (even if my eye didnt) when I got some food and beer in the system. I tried to take it easy – eating a fruit and cheese plate and just having a flight of beers, as opposed to pints. The others – they were throwing back the pints like crazy. Not to mention the calamari and the crab cakes. Everyone was a little bit boozed and thus, we took tons of really ugly pictures of each other. I mean really ugly. Like ugliest pictuees that ever exist of me, hands down.
We moved on to XO, arriving quite a bit earlier than our reservation. We sat at the bar, had a few drinks, and then moved on to our table. It was good to finally sit down and finally eat real food. God we ordered pretty much everything on the menu – all of it so tasty. Everyone had their fill of wine, but I had to resist. I know my limits when it comes to wine and food, and know that, for myself, too much of a good thing means that Im usually paying for it in the end.
Around midnight, we finished up dinner, then waddled our way back to the car. We didn’t even try to go out afterwards, just decided to drink some brewkies at home. Just as we were about to arrive at S’ place, my brother whimpered that he was feeling bad. I thought that he just had a mild stomachache, so I was teasing him. My sis turned around and asked if he wanted us to pull over and he nodded violently. AGain, I was no help, as i kept taunting him, but then I looked at his face and noticed he was trying to hold back something. S changed about 10 lanes and pulled over on the side of a highway. The door opened and Parcheesi scurried out the other side while my brother puked in and outside the car. I just sat there gagging. I usually am great about the puke thing, but man, my brother was barfing oatmeal. And according to my sister – there were about 5 gallons of it.
S and Zakk sat in the front with the blinkers on. Parcheesi was at the front of the car, shaking his head. I was giggling in the back, making things worse, and my sis was outside the car trying to clean up the mess inside the car with tissue paper from the clothes we had bought earlier that night. My favorite was when she looked at all the oatmeal puke and said, “Are you fucking SERIOUS?” She was NOT happy, as she was yelling at me to stop laughing. Then she rolled up the sleeves of her coat and got to work. Happy fucking birthday!
At home, the brother curled up into a ball and went to sleep. We stayed up eating cheese popcorn and watching Family guy. Zakk started to feel a little sick too and was lying down on the couch trying to rest a bit. See, this is why I prep myself by eating loads of shit. Stomach = lined with steel.
Our Last Day
Another late start, but only bc my sis and I cleaned the car (more gagging from me). Zakk and the bro were still feeling really sick, so we waited a while for them, then decided to try and make it to the Museuam of Science and Technology. We rushed to get there, stopping at arbys for lunch and then stopping on the highway while we waitied for a car accident to clear. Made it to the museum with about 2 hrs to go and quickly mapped out all the things that we needed to see.
First stop: the U-boat exhibit. They revamped the exhibit from when we were last there, bringing the sub inside into its own wing. The exhibit was pretty rad, and we spent a ton of time there before rushing off to the Fairy Castle (my favorite exhibit since I was a little girl.), yesterday’s main street (also a favorite of mine), then to the airplane, and then to the chickens hatching thing, and then to the whisper tunnel. Too much to see, so little time. But god, so weird to be there with my sister and brother. Last time we were all there together, we were just kids. I can’t explain how it felt to be w/them there, again, all grown up. In so many ways, it was as if time had never passed – as if we were those wide-eyed kids completely in awe with all the exhibits. In another sense, it was a little bittersweet to see everything through the eyes of an adult — still great, but not as magical or transfixing as the memory.
Our last stop was to take a picture in front of the old trains. Back when my sis and I were like 8 and 10, our dad took us on our first trip to Chicago. Or at least, it was teh first trip I could remember. We posed in front of the trains, looking as dorky as ever. I wore some weird blue tights and a too-short shirt. My sis had her Menudo haircut going. We were such dorky kids, but the beauty of childhood is how oblivious you are to so much. I just remember that that trip, at that time in my life, was one of the best experiences ever. My sis and I found a train and posed in front of it like we did way back when. Kind of a surreal experience.
Then it was time to go. Me and the bro were dropped off first – at Midway. And my sis and parcheesi went to Ohare. The moment i entered the airport, I had a sense that something was wrong. Turns out my flight was delayed, causing me to miss my connecting fight. Which means I woudl be delayed about a day. I talked to the flight staff at teh airport, and the first lady i talked to was about as helpful as the pricks back in SF. She gave me a lot of attitude when I simply asked her what my options were. Instead of trying to help me find other ways to get back, she just said, “your flight is delayed.” No fucking shit. I think that in this situation, they should try to determine my best possible solution, but I had to interrogate her to see if there were any flights leaving the next day, from different airports, etc. Each time I asked, she seemed very put out. Finally, she just said, “Look, if you want me to book you a flight, let me know. Otherwise, step back.” Um. Okay dude.
I stepped back and talked to another lady instead. She told me that I should try to make the same flight I was booked on, and said that it was more than likely that the pilot would make up the time. So she booked me w/the original flight. I asked her if it made sense to book the next flight out in teh event that I didnt make this flight, so that I could be guaranteed a seat. She said not to worry that I should be ok.
When I got to the gate, the gate information indicated that the flight leaving was for Tennessee. Given what had happened in SFO, i was paranoid that I got the wrong gate. I checked the monitors – it said I had the right gate, and that my flight was scheduled to be on time. A guy next to me, who was also confused, called the hotline, waited 30 minutes, and finally confirmed we were at the right gate, but that the flight was actually delayed an hour. So many poeple went up to the ticket counter, but they refused to give out any information, saying, “we’ll know more when the flight has taken off.” IT HADN”T LEFT YET?
To calm myself, I went to get some ice cream, then came back. At the time my flight was supposed to have been boarding, they still did not have updated information at the gate. They didnt even update it w/the correct flight info. Finally, about an hr or so after our flight was to have taken off, they put up teh correct flight info. God i was so angry at that point. Because now I knew for sure i woudl miss the connecting flight, and that the ticket in my hand was no good. What the hell was that person talking about – catch up? There was no chance in hell we would have ever “made up” the time, especially considering that the flight was delayed because of “crew.”
I arrived in IAD I dont know when. The hours all blurred together. I had to wait in about 3 lines to finally get a new ticket. When I asked questions in one line, they would refer me to the next. When I finally got into the “voucher” line, the guy exclaimed, “they put you on stand-by?” My god, i almost had a coronary. I seriously was going to cry at that moment. I said, “are you serious? does this mean i have to come back tomorrow to see if i can get a seat?” He advised that the best thing I coudl do was come back early in the morning to see if there were any flights avaliable. Again, this was fucked up bc when i missed my flight, an automated message was sent to my sister telling her that I had been automatically been confirmed for the 7am flight the next day. All I knew was this: i was not going to leave without tickets in my hand.
Then another problem – since I was fliying on United Express, they were “unable” to book me on United Main. WTF RULE IS THAT???? I’m like, well, what are other people doing? God I just calmly explained to him that I had to get on this flight no matter what. I asked him if he could check – just to see – if there were any seats avaible – and if so, could he maybe put me first on the list. Something. Anything. He looked and was like, “um, I don’t get it, they have plenty of seats on this flight. I dont know why they didn’t book you.” (btw, none of this makes sense to me) So he said that he would probably get in trouble for doing this, but he was going to book me anyway and if I had any problems to have them call him. Fucking weird. Why would there be a problem? He also told me that when I checked in tomorrow that my ticket may not work and they may have to reisssue me a ticket, but that regardless, I was guaranteed a seat. AGain. WTF.
So i took my vouchers for food. Went to the main airport. Noticed that all the food courts were closed. Then went to wait for the shuttle to take me to the hotel.
I ate peanut butter crackers for dinner that night from a fucking vending machine that ate all my money. Finally I gave up trying. Better to cut my losses. Go to bed. And start the fuck over.
That night was the definition of lonliness. I wasn’t either her nor there, but in some hotel in a nondescript part of town with a bunch of fellow transients. My sister was closeby, but not close enough to where I could stay with her. Had I known of this delay and prepped for it, or had the stupid travel agents found me another flight, I could have spent one more night in chicago with S and Zakk. As it were, I was all alone in this empty hotel room with an empty minifridge and a broken coffee maker.
It was all the more lonely because it came at the end of a trip where I got to see and be with my family and friends. I was already reeling from that sense of loss that comes with goodbyes and from not knowing when you’ll see the people you love again. That I had to stay, sequestered, in an empty hotel room with a view of the parking lot, was almost unbearable. So, before I went to sleep, I scrolled through all the pictures I had stored in my digital camera, ate my cheese crackers, and then turned out the lights. It felt empty. And I just wanted the day to finally be over.
FIN
So while the beginning and end of my trip was a fucking headache, everything in between was fucking jelly in a donut. It was great. Lots of fun and lots of laughs and lots of memories. And even with the fuckers at United Fucking Airlines being the fuckers they were – I’d do it all over again. Exactly the same way.
