Oklahoma State Visit, Travel Edition

I had it all mapped out.

I would wake up at 6:30 AM, leave the house at 7:45 AM, get to  MARTA to catch a train into Buckhead at 8:15 AM, arrive in Buckhead at 8:45 AM to pick something up from the pastor, and meet with the rest of the panel to preview our discussion at 9:00. We’d run two panel sessions, I’d be free at 12:30 PM, and catch MARTA to the airport in time to eat lunch and board the plane at 2:30 PM.

From there, I’d fly to Chicago, arriving at 4:00 PM (central time now). I would enjoy an adult beverage, eat dinner, read a book, and write a blog post or two prior to my 8:00 PM flight to Tulsa. I would land in Tulsa at 10:00 PM, be driven to Stillwater, and be in bed by 11:30 PM, allowing for a good night’s sleep before another marathon session of interviews and second consecutive long day of travel.

Everything went according to plan until leaving the panel discussion. It was at that moment that I received my first text from the nice people at Orbitz, informing me that my departure gate had changed. “Man,” I said to my elevator companion, “isn’t technology helpful?” I received another text from Orbitz while on MARTA that informed me that visibility was limited in the Chicago area and that there may be 30 minutes of delay. No big deal. At that point they had eight hours to catch back up and even if they didn’t, 30 minutes was not the end of the world.

My phone buzzed again as I was entering the airport, informing me of an additional gate change. In hindsight, I should have realized at this moment that the rest of the day was not likely going to go according to my plan. I ate lunch and boarded on time, finished my book on the plane (earlier than expected due in part to my new speed reading skills), and departed the plane ready to bang out a blog post with the aid of an adult beverage. It was a 20 minute walk to the new terminal, but I had plenty of time. As it turns out, I had enough time to make that walk 21 consecutive times without missing my next flight, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

I arrived in terminal F, bellied up to the bar, and enjoyed a beer with a nice man from Peoria while watching golf. He asked where I was heading and what I was doing. As I described the goal and the process, he asked how many people got into a PhD cohort. “Four to six,” I said. “Wow. That’s tougher than med school,” he replied. I agreed, adding, “And THEY make a point to tell us we won’t be REAL doctors. Ha.” After another sip I asked him what he did for a living. “I’m an orthopedic surgeon.” Oops. He chuckled and we had a good chat despite my somewhat arrogant introduction and the constant interruption of Orbitz texts informing me that my departure gate was continuing to change and that my departure time was being pushed later and later into the evening.

At the end of my originally scheduled four hour layover, I was up to my thirteenth Orbitz text and my flight was to leave at 11:00 PM. I would now get to Tulsa at 1:00 AM, and likely be in bed in Stillwater at 2:30 AM local time. This, however, would be 3:30 AM body time and would mean that I had been up for 21 hours prior to a packed day of interviews with faculty. Hooray for copious amounts of caffeine!

I wrote the FSU visit blog post, read half of a second book, watched a TV show on my iPad, and started to take a nap when I was interrupted by Orbitz text numbers 14, 15, and 16 – all in immediate succession. The departure gate had changed again, but then changed back, and the flight was now delayed until 8:45 PM. My default reaction was to look at my watch, where I was informed that the current local time was 8:05 PM. Neurons began firing again and I realized that my flight had been un-delayed, a miracle of Biblical proportion in modern day air travel.

The plane was not at the gate when I arrived, but it was only ten minutes away. It was also a small, regional jet and would take virtually no time to unload, refuel, and reload. At 9:00 PM we were on board and the doors were shut. We didn’t push back for another 30 minutes, at which time I texted my ride in Tulsa, powered down the phone, and nodded off.

I awoke an hour later to the frightening sight of another plane out my window. Frightening, not because we almost collided, but frightening because there was no chance at collision since both aircraft were on the ground and not actually moving. Not good. The captain came over the PA system and announced that we had finally been given a take off order number and would be tenth in the air. This is the aviation world’s equivalent to arriving at a restaurant, waiting in line for an hour before speaking to the hostess, and then being informed you that it would be a 30 minute wait for a table.

Meanwhile, the flight attendant apparently remembered the Jet Blue runway disaster of a few years back and decided to keep pouring water and pretzels down our throats to stave off hunger and possibly quell a mutiny. We finally turned off the taxiway and hit the throttle at almost 11:30 PM. We landed in Tulsa at a little after 1:00 AM and I managed to stay awake for the entire drive to Stillwater. At just after 2:30 AM, I got into bed and managed to get a few hours of sleep before getting up to start (rather, continue) the day.

The interview sessions went well and I’ll cover the details of the visit in a follow-up post. For the purposes of our travel discussion, let’s fast forward to the end of my day on campus, where I expected a smoother excursion back to Atlanta.

Several of the Stillwater faculty actually live in Tulsa. So, a little after 3:00 PM I caught a ride with two professors carpooling back that way. We had a little time to kill after we dropped one at his car at OSU’s Tulsa campus and my guide asked me if I’d like to view the Tulsa facilities. We did a quick walk-through and then got back in the car to head to the airport. I was relieved to be early for my flight, not panicked about rushing through check-in, and looking forward to having a drink and distilling my thoughts on the visit. I was at complete peace when I walked through the airport doors and approached check-in. There was no one in line and I waltzed towards the counter while checking my email to find my flight information. “Let me guess” I heard someone say. I looked up and saw he was talking to me while two other people were frantically typing into a computer monitor. “You’re going to Chicago?”

I suppose I should have known that this gentleman was not psychic, but I was relaxed and confident about my interview performance (especially since I was operating mostly on adrenaline). I smiled and said “Wow. Y’all are good.”

“What’s your name?” the man asked. I cheerfully responded, still not properly grasping the gravity of the situation, but curious why the woman yelled “I got him right here!” and started printing boarding passes before I handed her my ID.

Maybe I was too delirious to be properly affected by the words “Your flight has been canceled.” I honestly think I laughed. I’m not sure why. Maybe the previous night of travel delays had conditioned my brain to expect such drama. Whatever the case, I finally realized that I would not be having a beer in the Tulsa airport when I heard one man, talking into two phones simultaneously, ask if they would hold everything while he sent me sprinting through security. I will say that I am impressed by his level of effort (kudos, United). Most would have mailed it in, but this guy was actually talking to the plane on one phone and the gate agent on the other phone at exactly the same time, making sure that I would not sprint off the jetway a la Jim Carey in Dumb and Dumber.

I dashed to the security point, removed my shoes, stripped out of my blazer, and took everything non essential or remotely resembling metal and stuffed it into my bag with unprecedented efficiency. I was so quick (and probably looked so desperate/determined) that I was actually pulled out of line and allowed to pass a few people. I sprinted through the terminal and made it to the plane without having to stiff arm anyone along the way.

Things were relatively “normal” from there, considering that “normal” in the Chicago airport means a minimum of an hour delay. This wouldn’t have been overly troublesome if it didn’t create the scenario where I arrived in Atlanta after MARTA shut down for the evening and was forced to take a $90 cab ride to the north side of town. I finally got home after 2:00 AM and took a much needed full day of recovery yesterday to get recharged for consecutive days of Georgia State and Auburn interviews (which should provide less entertaining travel experiences).

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