Flew to Chicago Sunday evening, got back last evening – a fast 48-hour trip to our corporate offices for some training and meetings. It was chilly, windy, gray and not at all spring-like in Chicago – I noticed so many people in winter coats and gloves walking down the street. Yuck.
I really dislike flying, and being away from home and my own bed. I’m one of those people. All I can think about is a fiery airline disaster while I’m in flight, and hotel rooms give me the creeps. That’s what comes from an over-active imagination.
Interesting things about my trip to and from: I sat in exactly the same seat (9A) in exactly the same aircraft, coming and going. What are the odds of that? It was a dinky little 50-seat plane with a one-seat row, and then a 2-seat row. I know it was the same plane because a) it had the same flight number and b) it had the identical scuff marks on the ceiling by the overhead compartments. Seriously. I notice details like that when I’m nervous.
Did you know they charge $3.00 for a bag of snacks on the plane now? Outrageous.
Did you know that O’Hare has runways that cross the highway on bridges? Freaky.
Did you know that when you arrive early to your destination they have “remote parking areas” for the aircraft, where you just sit and idle until your gate becomes available? We had to sit there for 25 minutes, watching the other planes taxi to and fro, take off and land, while we waited. I started getting claustrophobic but just in time, they let us taxi to our gate. Couldn’t get off that plane fast enough.
And here’s a funny thing – on the flight home, we were pushing back from the gate, and many of the passengers were gazing out the windows, like they do … watching all the busy people and vehicles buzzing around, servicing the planes. Several of us noticed just ONE suitcase left all by itself on the tarmac – right where they load the suitcases into the plane. Everyone was wondering why it was there – did it get left behind on purpose, for some reason? Or was it accidental? Everyone was laughing saying “Well, it’s not mine…” So, if you own a dark purple suitcase, it’s may still be at O’Hare at the gate in Concourse L.
Had a crazy taxi ride from the airport to the hotel with a nice enough cab driver, but he jabbered on the phone in a foreign language the entire ride, weaving in and out of traffic like a mad man. Though from the looks of it, that’s the way everyone drives in downtown Chicago traffic.
The hotel was nice, kind of modern / eclectic, and my room was on the 12th floor. I had a delightful view of a rooftop and various other high-rise buildings in downtown Chicago. City noise wafted up all night long – sirens, honking, trains. Even though the room looked nice, and seemed clean, I still wore my socks on the carpet and in the bathroom. (Am I the only one who does that? I can’t be.) And I wonder how long it’s been since they put on a fresh clean bedspread and when did they last clean the bathroom … all those germs lurking, I just know it. And I think about bed bugs and lice and other disgusting things. Then I had a moment of panic when I went to look for a hair dryer and couldn’t see one. Thankfully I noticed a fancy little cloth drawstring bag on the shelf of the closet – voila, the hair dryer was in a bag.
I came home feeling like I'm getting a cold - and I haven't had one in eons. Must have caught some cooties on the plane or while in the hotel room.
So now you know that I’m a paranoid traveler … what bothers you about planes, taxis and hotels??
